In stitches
Another party it over! Thanks to everyone who came and made it great for Nathanael, who is now officially 1. After two Saturdays of parties, one person asked,”So, what are you going to do next week?”
Now I can answer the question.
I’ll be getting my stitches out.
After humbling myself so much as to tell you how I hurt my foot last week, I’m not going to tell you what I did to my finger in the evening after Nathanael’s party. But suffice to say, it’s well cut, and I now have 6 stitches in it. Now, that being said, I really have a lot to be thankful for. First, it was cut in a “good” place, and did a lot less damage than it could have. Second, it’s my left hand, and I’m right-handed. Third, I was able to get the stitches fairly quickly – within about an hour and a half of the accident. Fourth, the pain hasn’t been too bad. Although I must say the pain of the needles meant to “freeze” my finger was really something. And believe it or not (skip to the next paragraph if you’re squeamish), the doctor pushed one of the needles through my finger and right out of my palm. I don’t think he even noticed. But that was quite the feeling!
So, tomorrow I have to go in to get the bandaging changed, and to make sure there’s no infection. And on Saturday the stitches come out.
Now, there is a concern you could pray about. We’re going to be involved in a lot of music in Glendon on the 29th. Two things that are somewhat difficult to do with one less finger include playing the guitar and the piano. So some quick healing is needed, or there’s going to be a new Cottrill a capella group!
Speaking of music, a song has been going through my head the last few days, I thought I’d share it with you. I updated and wrote music for a song originally written by Isaac Watts and Stopford (yes, Stopford) A Brooke. Here’s my version:
Let ev’ry trembling thought be gone!
Awake and run the heavenly race,
And put a cheerful courage on!
It is a rough and thorny road,
And mortal travellers tire and faint;
But they forget our mighty God
Who feeds the strength of ev’ry saint.
(Chorus)
Swift as an eagle cuts the air
We’ll mount aloft toward our home
On wings of love our souls will fly
Not tire until they reach Your throne
This mighty Lord, who’s matchless pow’r
Is ever new and ever young
And still it lasts, while endless years
Their everlasting circles run.
From You the everflowing spring
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply
While those who trust the strength of man
Shall melt away and droop and die.
(Chorus)
Swift as an eagle cuts the air
We’ll mount aloft toward our home
On wings of love our souls will fly
Not tire until they reach Your throne
