Growing up as a preacher’s kid, there are certain events that stand out in my mind. For me, one of those moments was during construction on the church building. Although no one was supposed to ‘play’ in the area that was being torn down to expand the building, it was THE place to play ‘Hide and Seek’ and other games.
This particular Sunday there were a lot of boards laying around. As several of us were playing on and around these boards, we decided that it would be fun to play ‘gymnastics’ and use the 2×4’s that were on the ground as balance beams. We started off just walking on them, then we ramped up our skills, and started doing summersaults on the boards. This was challenging, but we didn’t see any danger in this, as the ‘balance beams’… the boards were on the ground. As I approached my personal ‘beam’, I decided to take it up yet another notch, and do a cartwheel. I knew my board was not long enough for the amazing skills I was about to lay down, so I added a little 2×4 to lengthen my ‘balance beam’. Everything started out fabulous. My skills were (in my opinion) … off the charts. My balance was immaculate, my summersault was perfectly centered, and my cartwheel started out great…. but when I put my feet back down on the board, I didn’t see the rusty nail rising out of the board. I came down right on that nail, puncturing not only my shoe, but that nail went straight into my foot. I had a small board nailed to my foot. I picked up my foot and hopped on one leg to find my dad. Someone saw the mess I had going on at the end of my leg and brought my dad over to me. My dad sat me down on a low block wall where my feet dangled about a foot from the ground and proceeded to pull the board off my foot. It really bothered me that blood was dripping from my shoe. Little did I know that my shoe was the next thing to come off that foot. The nail had not only penetrated the bottom of my foot, but it was poking out of the top of my small foot. My dad had me sit there, and allow my foot to drip blood, as he locked up the church, and got ready to leave. We then walked/ hopped to the hospital, located 1 block away, to get me a new tetanus shot. The doctor said we had done exactly the right thing, by allowing that foot to drip blood, the wound had cleaned itself out. No stitches were needed, just 2 shots, one for tetanus and the other an antibiotic. Although I was under the impression that I had won the ‘after church gymnastics competition’, in the long run, all I got was a “shot in the arm”… a shot in my butt, and the hole in my foot. I want to remember that day at fake competition, when I ‘nailed’ the almost perfect routine.
“So whoever knows the right thing to do, and fails to do it, for him it is sin.” James 4:17
I was told not to play in the construction area, but I completely disobeyed. I knew better than to play in the construction zone, but the chance to win the faux gymnastics competition was way too tempting. In the long run, I got ‘nailed’ for disobeying. I can truly say that at least once in my life, I nailed the landing… and this time it was not a ‘good thing’.
