Under My Thumb

Who knew an injured thumb could teach me some life lessons?

You know, beside the lesson of "use the handguard when using a mandolin".

I have always considered myself the thumb of the family.

Wife, mom, cook, etc.

I keep things under my thumb.

Not strictly.

I don't think I truly control the people in my house, though I wish sometimes I could. :)

More like I just keep my thumb on the details of our household.

Birthdays, school paperwork, lunch money, holiday decorations, bill payments, doctor/dentist appointments, changing out seasonal clothing, organizing, menus/meals, Christmas cards, the list goes on and on.

I do a lot around the house.

And I will admit I have often thought, "What would my family do without me?"

At the time, it seemed like a practical question.

Now, looking back, it seems very egotistical. Prideful. Foolish.

When I hurt my thumb a couple weeks ago, my first thought was "What will I do now?"

I never realized how much I used that thumb!

Except that after I got over the throbbing pain, I learned to do things in a different way.

My left hand learned to compensate more than I ever gave it credit for.

And so did my other fingers.

Oh sure, there were times (putting my watch on, tying shoes, buttoning pants) that I really missed that right thumb.

But I found out I could live without it.

(Sidenote...other than an ugly looking scab and a partially missing thumb nail, my thumb is quite healed now. :)

I guess I have been thinking about this as I read prayer requests, obituaries, stories about people my age, even younger, gone. In the blink of an eye.

I am not planning on going anywhere soon...that would be up to God. And like most moms, I hope to watch my children grow up, hope to meet my grandchildren one day.

But I have learned that if God did call me home, life would go on without me.

It would hurt my kids. And my husband. Okay, probably especially my husband since he would be left with the four kids.

Life would be different.

But in time, my family would learn to go on. They would learn to do things in a different way. And in time (and hopefully with God's guidance), they would heal.

Though we all want to think we are irreplaceable, I am learning (with age, time, and wisdom), that we aren't. People come, people go.

Yet in some ways, this revelation gives me a peace.

Life would go on.

Who knew an injured thumb could teach such life lessons?

More later,
Reba