Splinters

I got a splinter in my finger at my Mom’s last week. It was just little. I couldn’t really see it, didn’t have a needle to get it out, and decided to just let it work its way out. Splinters will do that they say—just work themselves out if you wait.

Every once and a while, I could feel the hurt. After all, it was in the pad of my middle finger, on my right hand.

Then, today I was wiping out the shelves downstairs where the boxes store the Christmas decorations. One thing I want to do this year is clean out all those shelves…a whole wall of shelves.

And, as I pressed into the cloth to clean, it just kept hurting—that little splinter.

After a couple of shelves, I walked right over to the sewing table and hunted up a needle, put on the glasses I always leave there, and began picking at that splinter.

And as I picked, it reminded me that sometimes hurts just keep hurting—just like this splinter, every time we press into it. Even a little hurt can turn into a big pain.

Why do we wait so long to take the hurt out? Sometimes, we feel it, but it’s just so hard to see. Sometimes, we wait—hoping it’ll just go away. Then we press against it, and it hurts. And even now that it’s gone, I sometimes wonder, “Is it all gone? Did I get all the hurt out?” Sometimes, I think it hurts. I think it’s still there. But it isn’t.

Hurt—and pain. And as I run my nail over it, I’m assured it really is gone—all of it. I just keep telling myself—it really is all gone.

Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.

Sometimes, I just need to run a nail over it—to make sure it’s really all gone. I find that in Scripture. I find that in prayer. I find it in Mark’s sermons each week. Jesus is the only One who can remove the splinters of the soul—because splinters of the soul aren’t ever going to work themselves out, not ever.