Burn

Sometimes we hurt people even when we don’t mean to. We had quite the scare tonight. I was pouring boiling water into the sink. Some of the water bounced out and fell on to my eight year old daughter – right through her shirt and right on to her hip. She looked at me in shock. Then she screamed, “It hurts! It burns. Daddy!”

I tore her shirt off as fast as I could. There was already a mark the size of a nickel. I called my wife. I put ice on her fresh wound. Then aloe. I held her. I prayed with her. I did everything I could…and it still was not enough.

Pain teaches us a lot about life. I found, at that moment, that I would do anything to take away her pain if only I could. I would rather hurt than see her hurt. But as much as I love her, I could not give her exactly what she needed. I am not as in control as I make myself out to be And even though I did not mean to – the damage had been done.

Then there is the scar. I pray that she heals quickly and completely. I pray there is no lasting damage – no matter how small – that will forever remind us of the incident.

So, I just returned from tucking her into bed. I sat at her side for quite a while. We talked about the evening. The movie we watched. The books that we read. The school day that awaits her in the morning. I told her that I was sorry about the burn. That I never wished to hurt her. She knows. I prayed with her. I held her hand. I looked into her eyes and let her know that I was there. I think she is going to be okay.

Burn

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