Body piercing is nothing new to me. I once stepped on a board with a nail sticking through it. The pain surged through my right foot, and I quickly turned to hobble off in search of comfort and Band-Aids. Then I felt a sharp pain in my left foot. I knew I should’ve tossed that board farther away, I thought. Now I had a matching pair of pierced soles.
I dragged myself to the local emergency room, which someone had cleverly named Express Care. I sat in Express Care for something like half a century.
At last a nurse led me to a little room. “Soak your feet in this pan,” she instructed.
The pan was filled with a liquid, possibly hydrochloric acid. I think it was supposed to eat away my feet to kill the pain. But when I lifted my legs from the solution, my feet were still attached. Then I realized that the solution was designed to create a higher level of pain, making the original agony fade into insignificance. Isn’t modern science amazing?
The next morning I was scheduled to play special music for a chapel service. What to perform? “Step by Step”? “It Is Well With My Sole”?
Or skip the music altogether and share personal Scripture insights? I could especially identify with Jeremiah 18:22, in which the author mentions some dudes who “have hidden snares for my feet.”
The following morning I wobbled like a penguin over toward the piano and plopped down on the bench. A few notes into my solo, a wondrous revelation washed over me: even though my feet were dead meat, my hands worked great! Pushing the sustain pedal was a bit of a pain, but the music flowed along just fine. A round of hearty amens left me smiling in my misery.
Each of us has been somehow wounded, either in spirit or body. But in some mysterious way God still manages to use our talents in His service. Let’s give Him a hand for accomplishing such a great feat!