Let me share a thought with you…but first the background story… I hurt my neck the other day at the end of our kiwi fruit picking stint…tripped over a root and stumbled forward trying not to fall with my heavy load of fruit. I must have wrenched my neck; the physio said the injury is like a whiplash.
Anyway, I’ve had several days and especially nights of intense pain in the base of my skull, radiating up into my head. Not very nice—oh, the blessing of Voltaren! But today I’ve awoken after a pretty good sleep and feel a lot better. I’ve been sitting in bed this morning reading an old book by Amy Carmichael, Gold by Moonlight. She says, “There are many rooms in the house of pain. I have asked that I may not miss any room where a reader of this book is or shall be.” The book deals with physical pain, bereavement, suffering, trials – it’s beautiful.
Anyway, in one part she tells the story of a man counting his petty cash. After a few moments of desperate scribbling and adding, he cries, “It is gone! Why write its epitaph?”
And Amy writes, “Strewn among the big and really shattering things there are often tiresome trifles that can seem quite important and draw attention to themselves. And yet, ‘They are gone. Why write their epitaph?’ As a way of dealing with the little ills of life it is excellent; a bad night, a bad day, a worry, a small pain, a petty annoyance. ‘It is gone. Why write its epitaph?’ Why indeed? Today is a new day. 🙂