A Mark of Sin

I frequently carry my stress in my head.  I have a specific headache that is directly related to stress.  I can feel it starting and know that when it's at it's height I am am going to be dizzy.  Sometimes when it starts I am in a situation where I can back up and evaluate what is going on: Am I in the wrong? Am I going about this the wrong way?  Why is this bothering me or making me nervous?  But sometimes I just barrel through.

But every-once-in-a-while, my stress skips the head-ache and goes to my face in the form of a hive on my left cheek.  It starts to get warmer and warmer and warmer... like that game where children are hunting for something in the room.  And then there's a hive.  The more stress, the bigger it gets.

And I look at that hive flamed by the torch of my sins: pride, worry, the god of I Need To Fix It, lust for wanting everything to be easy-everything to go my way.  Such a public statement, this hive.  And I am forced to deal with it as opposed to my private head-aches.  I have to put a cold cloth on my cheek.  I have to calm myself down so that I don't end up covered in splotches.  I HAVE to stop and examine the sin that's burning in me.

And I wish that all my sins were like that.  I wish my nose would grow with lies.  I wish my eyes would glue shut or my ears fall off or my hands shrivel up.  I wish my feet would turn to soft clay.  I don't want to go on sinning.  I don't want to ignore or tolerate my sin or grow calloused to the internal private warning signs.

Oh, Lord... thank You for this hive.


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