The story of one finger and a world of change

Two years ago, I had an accident at work. I sliced up the tip of my left index finger and had to go to the E.R. After getting six stitches and a finger guard, I made sure to be extra careful with razor blades thereafter.

Never underestimate the importance of even one little finger. That finger has the great honor of typing eight middle keys: 4,5, R, T, F, G, V and B. For the first couple of weeks, my middle finger was working overtime and I made mistakes on every sentence I typed.

At one point if I put my two index fingers together, I looked like I was stuck in a Chinese finger trap.

Like.
So.

If that wasn't enough, I soon developed a whole-body rash in reaction to the preventive antibiotic. What a lovely feeling. After two weeks, I had my stitches taken out. And so began the awkward stage of dry, peeling, nasty skin on my fingertip. Thankfully, now all I'm left with is a slightly noticeable indent running along the tip of my index finger.

But for a while, I couldn't even press a button with that finger. At the slightest touch, my shiny new scar sent a loud warning shot of pain through my nerves. Yet another temporary symptom of the healing process.

Again, it's been two years, but since then I've had many big, bad thoughts about that one teeny, tiny injury.

• I keep wondering how long this scar is going to stay. It's still noticeable right now, and my fingerprint has been slightly altered. But my hands seem to change and heal much faster than the rest of me. I once had a mole on the very tip of my pinky - it disappeared over time, much to my chagrin.

• For a short time, I experienced the palpable feeling of helplessness because of this one finger that I had to keep covered so that the stitched up end wouldn't get banged up. It made me realize that "mind over matter" is an altogether unrealistic philosophy to live out, because even the smallest physical change can cause a whirlwind of chain reactions that ultimately affect my thought process and even influence what I'm thinking about. 

• I never noticed how many things my hands slammed into throughout the day before the injury called my attention to it. I found out that my limbs can take quite a beating when I'm not paying attention!

• Scars are amazing. Not only does your body stitch itself back together using fluids specifically for that purpose, but while doing so, it ensures that the section of skin that's being repaired will end up much stronger than before. My finger is now reinforced with extra protection against unwieldy blades!

• I'm pretty grateful that I still have all of my fingers. Such a multi-purpose appendage is certainly not the most important part of the body, but it does perform some useful tasks. It points—it can help lead someone in the right direction, or it can beckon someone closer. It pushes buttons—with one push, this finger can take me up 10 floors or provides me with cool, refreshing water. It grasps—my grip is average, but my grip with a stiff index finger was atrocious.

• At times, I have felt like a bandaged index finger in the Body of Christ. Calling back to the useful functions it performs when it is working, I remember the various ways I helped out in my old church back when I felt that I was thriving spiritually. I sang in the worship team, operated the video booth, co-led a study group of middle-school girls and helped with VBS. But when that church split, I floundered. For a few years, I floated around in life, not committing to a church, self-sabotaging friendships, forgetting to study the Bible and forgetting to spend one-on-one prayer time with the most important person in the universe. But, you know what? I think the bandage has come off now. The stitches, too. They started itching ages ago and had to be cut. Now my new skin is setting, and I will be stronger than ever. God is toughening me up, and soon I will have a beautiful scar. I'm gradually getting more connected in my new church, and I think I'm ready to take the next step and serve. 

On the necessity of rain

Rain is a bad reminder of everything I don't want to know
Rain is a backseat driver that takes me where I don't want to go

The sky matched my mood for most of the day. Grey and overcast. I've been thinking back on the past month, trying to count my blessings in the middle of unfortunate circumstances. Life is beautiful, amazing and painful all at once. I feel ungrateful for the wonderful moments of happiness I've had because I am finding myself easily blindsided by the really awful moments of sadness.

This has been a difficult week for me emotionally. Honestly, it's been a difficult month, but this past week finished it off with a vicious twist of the knife. But my pain, though real, still feels somehow vicarious through my roommate.

I knew her brother. He stayed with us a few times this year. One time he was here for a week and started feeling almost like a surrogate little brother. But I'm not the one who changed his diapers, who soothed his tears and exchanged secrets. I'm not the one who lost her father from cancer only three weeks before losing her brother because he wasn't wearing his seatbelt. I'm not the one who had to step up and take responsibility for her mother's well-being while ignoring her own. I'm not the one who could barely walk after hearing that there was nothing more the doctors could do to stop the swelling in his brain.

No, I'm not the one whose baby brother has been ripped from her life because of one crazy car ride with his friends; that pain belongs to my roommate.

And it looks like the sky is caving in again
I'm dry and cracked, the sky goes black
And tut, tut, it looks like rain

Oh, Switchfoot, my faithful friends. There are times in my life that my soul needs music to help compose itself, and in those times I fall back on this dear band. I always find at least one song that speaks the thoughts and feelings I scarcely realized were there.

To think... I had assumed the low point of my year would be leaving my job without having found a new one yet. To be sure, I was a mix of sad, scared, and excited after the conversation with my boss that led to me leaving. I was sad that the business was struggling, disappointed with myself for not having the ability to become what my boss hoped I could be, but hopeful that the shop would be able to thrive. It pained me to admit that they deserved someone more capable than me - but it was true. I was in a skilled trade - but the only skills I have ever excelled at are in a far different kind of trade. I was scared of what the future would hold. Scared of not being able to find another job. Scared of being forced to move back in with my parents. Scared to be alone with my own thoughts - for I can be my own greatest critic and I remember far too many of my own mistakes. Scared that being jobless would negatively impact my new relationship. Scared that I could never be more than just competent at anything I tried to excel in. But still, I was excited. I was excited by all of the possibilities I was now open to explore. Excited to have a little more free time to finish projects I had neglected while working full-time. Excited at the possibility of actually using my Communications degree. Excited to be able to write, edit and design to my heart's content. Excited to catch up on new developments in my field and to brush up on old skills.

How very shallow the pain of being jobless is compared to the pain of losing two family members within a month. Needless to say, I want to be there for her and support her in any way that I can, but my human failings get in the way. I try my best to show empathy, but I haven't lost a sibling or parent. I simply cannot know how deep her pain is. All I know is that I also hurt from his loss - and it doesn't rationally make sense to me - I knew him very briefly in comparison. But now I don't have a chance to know him more, and my roommate won't get the chance to continue sharing life with him and see what kind of man he would have turned into. I hurt because of lost chances; I hurt because my roommate hurts.

Erosion
Oh, Spirit, fall like rain on my thirsty soul
Erosion
Oh, sweet erosion, break me and make me whole

We need God more than ever right now. My roommate and I may not be quite on the same page in terms of faith, but a couple weeks ago she schooled me! She reminded me that while Jesus took on our sins at the cross, He wiped away all record, as though we had never sinned at all. How amazing is that! My roommate, who for so long claimed agnosticism, who dated an atheist, who is currently dating a Taoist. I love this girl. And I hurt for her because she feels alienated from the Church. I'm only recently getting back into being involved with a church. It's been a long time coming. I hadn't realized how badly I took it when my old church split up. But like the song says... break me and make me whole. I think my old wounds were set badly, like a broken bone allowed to heal crooked. God is breaking that bone again to allow it to heal straight within the structure he is setting up for it. He's making a cast now, just for me. And healing will come.

The thirstiest grounds can't take the rain
My undecided vices washing on down the drain
And it looks like the sky is caving in again
My heart is cracked, the sky goes black
And tut, tut it looks like rain

I have so many flaws. As I said earlier, I am my own worst critic, and I can clearly see the majority of my own vices and flaws, even if I can't do anything about some of them. I'm constantly being overtaken by fear, and the thoughts of being inadequate, incompetent and incapable of holding down a good job. But those thoughts are lies! I can prove them wrong. I have held down good jobs, and I've been darned good at them! I just need to get back into the swing of things. When I have the confidence and the drive to get things done, I get things done right!

But I have yet to regain that confidence and drive. Somewhere in those three years I spent working in retail, I lost it. And I can see only one person who can truly help me regain what I lost... for what is impossible to the being who created all matter out of nothingness? NOTHING is impossible for God! and I can do all things through Him. Oh, how I need Him right now.

Oh, Erosion, would You wash away my sins?
Oh, Erosion, I need a second shot again
Oh, Erosion, would You break my heart again?
Oh, Erosion, I am a broken-hearted man

It still amazes me how God insists on giving second chances. And again, the song reminds me of yet another way God's mercy shone through. I've been seeing a lot of rainbows this past week, but the original rainbow appeared right after the rain. It showed up right after the rain, which washed the earth clean of its wicked and despotic rulers and brought about the chance to start again. The rainbow appeared not only because the atmospheric conditions had changed, but because God orchestrated those changes, and because God meant it as a sign that He was not going to give up on this second chance.

In a way, I'm getting a second chance. I'm getting the opportunity to do what I felt helpless to do right after graduation: Decide once and for all to commit to my chosen field. I was made with the innate desire to write. I was born with the innate ability to spot spelling or grammar errors after just a quick skim. God also gave me the sense of art and design needed to create many visually pleasing things. This is the work I was meant for.

And as for my roommate, I know part of her feels that her life as she knew it is over. The sense of deep loss from losing a close family member is not something to be taken lightly. But if her life as she knew it is over, then her life as she now knows it is just beginning. It has been and will continue to be tough for her to cope. But her broken heart will heal.