Yesterday, I did something stupid. But before you make any sarcastic comments,
let me explain. I was getting my
two-wheeled hand truck out of the back of the pickup, but I had stuff in my
left hand. I had lifted the wheel end of
the cart over the tailgate, but the cart was overbalanced and began to slip out
of my hand. I decided to just let it
fall to the ground, but when the weighted end of the cart went down, the handle
end was catapulted up and into my face.
The handle end hit my face and my glasses were smashed into my cheek
before I could do anything. When the
incident was over, the first thing that I did was to look around to see if
anyone had seen my mishap. The second
thing was to feel my face to see if it was still intact. Other than a scratch on my glasses, I was
fine. But soon, I felt the trickle of
blood in my moustache. I had a small cut
where the pipe had smashed the skin into my upper jaw. I can only hope for a little scar, giving me
the streetfighter look. It reminded me
of a scar that I got when I was fifteen years old. My younger brother and I were fighting over a
snow shovel in the wintertime. He pulled
one way, and I pulled the other. He let
go and I hit myself with the shovel in the forehead just above my left
eye. My six stitches looked good at
school the next day. I told my friends
that I had been in a fight. It was the
truth, but just not all of the truth.
Jesus said in John 8:32, “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth
shall make you free.” It’s one thing to
know the truth, but it’s another thing to tell the truth. And telling the truth is more important than
avoiding embarrassment … whether you are fifteen or seventy-five!
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