Needles

On my walk across the fields this week, I got caught on a bush and a long splinter embedded itself in my hand. I pulled most of it out with my teeth, dug some more of it out with a needle and left nature to take its course. A couple of days later a scab had formed over the hole I'd made, but it was very tender to the touch.  I decided to have another needle dig and expel the remaining bit of the thorn. That was reasonably easy and almost painless and I began to ask myself why I am so averse to needles being stuck into me. Inspecting the tiny bit of thorn, I realised how incredible it is that our bodies can sense an intrusion however minuscule. Intending to put the needle back in the reel of cotton I discovered that it was nowhere to be seen.  Having performed my minor operation whilst sitting in bed, I was mystified as to where the needle had gone. Carefully moving the quilt revealed nothing and checking my pyjamas was also a fruitless search. I leaned down to look at the carpet and felt a sharp pain under my armpit. The needle had fallen into my sleeve and as I lifted the quilt, it must have dropped down and lodged itself under my arm. That was when I remembered why I am so averse to needles being stuck into me.

Injections are very much in people's consciousness at the moment. Views on them vary enormously and only time will tell which perspectives were nearest to the truth.

In the meantime it is good to remind ourselves how fearfully and wonderfully we are made (Psalm 139)  The same Psalm explains that whether we are flying to a foreign country or lying in bed in the darkness, God's hand will lead us and hold us fast.  In 2020 I flew to the other side of the earth and enjoyed every moment of it. In 2020 I lay crying in my bed in the darkness and hated it. In both situations I was safe in God's hands and I am very thankful.