Recently, Annie had the pleasure of experiencing a splinter in her left heel–her first major splinter. And Mike and I also had the pleasure of trying to remove it from her foot.
“Hold still, Annie,” Mike instructed as he attempted to use a sterilized needle.
He barely finished his words when Annie wailed, “NOOOO!”
I tried to sit next to her for comfort, then eventually ended up having to sit ON her–all while she pounded her fists into my back.
It would have been funny if it didn’t hurt.
Mike, bless his heart, kept trying to get a firm grip on her ankle. But eventually Annie kicked the needle out of his hand. The needle disappeared into the couch–and still has yet to be found. So, tread (and sit) carefully if you come to visit.
SO. MUCH. DRAMA.
And all from our brave little girl who had two three-inch pins removed from her arm!
(Now, THOSE pins are “splinters” worthy of drama!)
We tried telling Annie that the splinter would just cause more discomfort if she wouldn’t let us take it out.
“I DON’T CARE!!!”
Alrighty then. You can keep your splinter.
Amazing, really, how strong a little girl can be. I’m surprised that I didn’t go flying off the couch with the needle too.
So, needless (and needleless) to say, the splinter remained in Annie’s heel for the time being.
Later that day, as I shook my head over the ridiculousness of the incident, God reminded me that sometimes we grown-ups too choose to leave spiritual splinters in our heart. We think that removing the “splinter” or letting go of offense would be too painful so we hold on to it. But eventually the offense digs deeper and infects our thoughts and behavior.
He’s got a good point there.
Some pain now is worth avoiding more pain later.
So, I shared that point with Annie, expecting (hoping) that she would finally relent and let us take the splinter out.
“No. The splinter doesn’t hurt anymore,” she declared.
And off she went to play.
Okay, guess denial works too.