Okay, so I didn’t almost slice it off.
But it did really hurt!
Many of you will know (thanks to my Facebook update AND my announcement at church on Sunday…) that on Sunday morning while I was cutting up the bread for communion that I cut my finger. Badly.
Dallas had already left for church. I was multi-tasking, making pancakes for the kids and slicing this big loaf of bread while they cooked. Somehow, my finger slipped in where the bread should have been. Instead of sawing it, I sawed the finger. I swear I heard the bone scrape, hand to Heaven. So then I screamed. And then I had to act all calm because the kids were there and I didn’t want them to freak out. “I’m okay! Mommy’s fine! Mommy just cut her finger!” I told them, as I flipped the pancakes with my other hand. Then I realized I needed to sit down. Fortunately for me, our recliners were in the kitchen, since Dallas re-did our living room floors this weekend. It’s nice when things work out like that.
I reclined while the kids happily ate their pancakes and I held my finger as tight as I could with our now-ruined tea towel since I knew as soon as I let go, that sucker was going to bleed something awful. I could not believe how much it hurt. I kept thinking of mob movies where they cut off people’s fingers and how awful that must have been for those poor people. Then, as I saw the blood start to seep from my hand, I thought of something else.
“This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many…”
“This cup is the new covenant in my blood…”
“Jesus blood was shed for you…”
I have often said to student ministers: “Sometimes you get to the end of a week of ministry and you think: Why am I doing this? And then you share in communion. And one by one people come forward and you say “This is His body…this is His blood…And you remember: “This is why.””
And it is good.
The irony of my hand bleeding as a result of communion was indeed not lost on me. And I promise I am not making this up as some devotional illustration after the fact. I really did sit there in my recliner in my kitchen with the pancakes cooking and the kids asking for juice and my tea towel starting to ooze and think “I am thankful for what Jesus did for me.” I cut my finger and I had a God moment.
Eventually, the bleeding got under control. The only medical supplies I could find were kid’s Polysporin, a piece of gauze and scotch tape, so I haphazardly wrapped my finger with my functional hand, and proceeded to church where I was thankful for the church’s recently stocked First Aid kit, Amanda for stocking it and Christy for re-wrapping me properly.
Now, to follow up to the questions that I have since been asked:
– No, I did not get any blood on the communion bread (Thanks tea towel!).
– No, I did not require stitches (I got a nurse at church to look at it after the service – thanks Bonnie!).
– Yes, I am extremely thankful for the people who usually do this each month (thanks Walden and Elfreide!).
As you can see, there was much to be thankful for this past thanksgiving Sunday! Un-severed fingers, helpful friends, medical supplies and the gift of the cross – just to name a few.
Perhaps, however, I was most thankful for the unexpected ways that God can speak to us every day. I am thankful that God is always breaking in, and that we can see Him in the sacred, the secular, the silly, and the stupid.
This week, I saw Him in the slicing.