It's All About Perspective

Last night Logan scraped her toes on the bottom of the swimming pool--it happens--especially if you swim for 5 hours straight. But the slightest sight of blood turns her inside out, and there is no calming her. Even after the band-aid is on, she will continue for a good 15 minutes. She has been like this since birth, and I often tell her that I think she has a sure career in nursing. Last night the only way to get her to stop was to distract her with cake and ice cream. Miraculously, within minutes she was laughing, talking, and eating. Sugar--the miracle healer.

Here is the good part though: As she was wailing last night, another little girl came up to console her.

"I know how it feels. I stepped on a rock and look." She raised her foot showing a large chunk of missing skin.

"See Logan," I said, "She got a bad owie and isn't putting up nearly as big a fuss as you."

"Yeah, but mine hurts worse!" Logan cried.

"Oh, come on. How do you know that?"

"Because I feel it!"

I wonder how often I sound like that to God.