CUTS, SCARS, AND LESSONS LEARNED

If you know me, you know that I’ve had my share of misfortune. I’ve had plenty of bad things happen to me as I was growing up. I certainly understand that plenty of others have had a much rougher life than I have. I only mention mine to show what God has brought me through. I have had a few major things happen to me, but for the most part, the bad things I’ve experienced were small and spread out over time. There are a few things that I’ve been through that I had absolutely no control over, but as I’ve grown older I’ve come to realize that many of the bad things I’ve experienced, I brought on myself.

I’ve also realized that there is a lesson to be learned from anything that happens in life. Sometimes the lesson is to “never do that again.” Other times the lesson can have a much deeper impact, and can even change the course of our lives forever.

The stories I want to share with you in this post were not life-altering events. These were some of the less significant ones, but I did learn some important lessons from all of them. As you may have noticed from the title, all these events have a common theme. If you've been following my blog, or if you've read my books, then you know that a lot of stuff happened to me when I was twelve years old. That’s where I want to start with this post.

On his latest visit, my dad had a slingshot he had made from a forked tree limb shaped like the letter Y. He had used a piece of leather, a couple of strips of rubber from an old inner tube, and some nylon fishing string to hold it all together. I wanted to make one of my own, so I gathered up all the parts, including a nice Y-shaped limb I cut from a tree in our yard.

My grandmother and my sisters had walked to the store just up the road. I didn’t want to go because I wanted to finish making my slingshot. I wanted it to look nice and smooth so I needed to cut off a knot that was near the center to make both sides look the same. That’s when it happened. After a tough few seconds of cutting, the knife sliced through the rest of the knot. That’s not all it sliced through though. It cut right into my index finger and the blood began to pour.

As many times as I had seen my own blood, you would think I would have been calm about it, but no. It was bad. I panicked. All I could think to do was run to my grandmother for help, but wait! She wasn’t there. The next thing I remember, I was running up the road toward the store as fast as I could go. They had just started back home when I got to the store. My grandmother put some kind of a rag on my finger, maybe one of her handkerchiefs, I don’t remember exactly what it was but she calmed me down and we went back home. She cleaned my hand and got the bleeding stopped and bandaged it up. It healed in no time, but I still have the scar to remind me of that experience. The lesson I learned that day is, Always cut away from yourself, never toward you, and that my grandmother was an awesome woman with a head full of knowledge, and a heart full of love.

I was probably just a few years older when I got my next major cut. I’m certainly not proud of it at all, but I used to hit the wall or throw things when I was angry. This was one of those days, but instead of hitting the wall, I hit the door. That’s when I realized that I had punched through a frosted glass window which was much thicker than regular glass. It sliced a four-inch groove in my arm, taking the skin completely off. I was in pain for quite a while.

Then a few years after that, I was angry again and went to slap a glass off of the sink. It was an empty peanut butter jar, and those things were thick. It hit some other dishes before it left my hand and I was cut again. It was bad, too. It sliced a hole about an inch wide and an inch deep and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. I tried everything. My grandmother did all she knew to do, but it was no use. About an hour had passed, and what looked like a gallon of blood lay on the front porch before I finally decided I might need a doctor. My grandmother sent my sister to get our mother. When we got to the hospital, I had been bleeding for almost two hours.

When the nurse removed the rag I had wrapped around my hand, a huge amount of blood poured out into a puddle on the floor. She took me back to a room and told me to hold pressure on the cut until the doctor could see me. When he came in he told me to let go so he could get a look at it. The second he took my hand, a stream of blood shot out and sprayed all the way up to the ceiling. I was focused on my hand and the stream of blood, so I didn’t see the doctor’s face, but I can imagine what it looked like as he quickly stepped back and said something that scared me to death. I’ll never forget that tone of shock and urgency in the words he said. With surprise and concern in his voice, he said, “Woah! We’ve cut a main artery.”

It’s funny thinking about his reaction today, but it wasn’t funny then at all. I could have died. I lost a lot of blood and I had a terrible time getting that cut to heal. I kept it bandaged up and it couldn’t dry. It swelled up from internal bleeding, and all the stitches pulled loose. When it did finally heal, it left an awful scar that produced excruciating pain every time it was bumped. That lasted more than twenty years, and believe it or not, it’s still tender to this day. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that experience.

Although it took several more years and a few more incidents, I learned not to throw and hit things when I’m angry. I also learned that the kind of anger I was experiencing was not normal, or healthy. I had some things I had to work through. I thank God and my wonderful family for loving me and supporting me through it all.

A close, personal relationship with Jesus Christ will work miracles in a person’s life. I know I sometimes sound like a broken record, but that kind of relationship only comes through prayer and Bible study, and having a close, personal relationship with Jesus is the only way we will ever make it to heaven. So, If you haven’t been born again, ask him to save you today. If you have been born again, ask him to draw you closer and stay in constant communication with him through prayer and Bible study. That’s the key.

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My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
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OUR BEST FRIEND

When I was really young I remember visiting my Aunt who lived just through the woods. We walked there quite often with our grandmother. She had a dog named Clete. I don’t know what kind of dog he was but my sister and I liked him a lot, and I guess he liked us, too. We played with him every time we would visit. Then one day she told us that he once belonged to her brother, who was our uncle. His name was Marvin.

Later, we learned a couple of interesting things about Uncle Marvin and Clete. First, Marvin was our uncle’s middle name. His first name was actually Cletus. He named the dog after himself and just called him Clete for short. Cletus is a strange enough name to me, but Clete doesn’t even sound like a name at all. I’m glad I found out where the name came from.

The second interesting thing we found out was that Uncle Marvin had given Clete to me and my sister, and our aunt was just keeping him for us. I never did find out why. Maybe we were too young. I don’t know. Eventually, though, we got to take him home. We had to keep him tied on a chain in our side yard, but we played with him every day. He was like a member of our family. He was our best friend.

We moved several times over the next few years and our buddy went with us. We grew up and he was still there, just as loyal and loving as ever. Then one day he got sick. We got medicine for him and he seemed to get better, but eventually, he died.

I’ll never forget the pain I felt knowing he was sick and there was nothing I could do to make him better. I wanted to hold him and pet him and comfort him, but we couldn’t even touch him. I’ll also never forget the pain I felt when he died. All my sisters and I could do was cry. We were all heartbroken. He was our best friend for so many years, and we loved him very much.

We missed our best friend after he died, but we still had each other and we were glad for that. At least we didn’t have to miss him alone. Our grandmother was there for us, to hug us, and hold us, and tell us it would be okay. We also had Jesus to help us through that tough time. Our grandmother had told us all about him early on, and how much he loves us, and the animal he created. She told us about death and why everything has to die. It’s because of sin.

When God created our world, everything was perfect and he gave everything to Adam to take care of. Then Satan came along, and Adam, by disobeying God, forfeited his governorship to the father of lies. Then Jesus came and lived a sinless life and died, and was resurrected, and he took the kingdom back from Satan.

Yes, death is still here, but it has no power over those who trust and obey God. One day Jesus will physically return, and destroy death and sin once and for all, and those who have been born again will live with him forever. I’m looking forward to that day. I can’t wait to see Jesus. I’ll also get to see my grandmother, my dad, and my sister all again. I don’t know about Clete. The Bible doesn’t say whether or not we will have our animal friends back, but I certainly think it’s possible. I know that God is powerful enough to do anything. I’d like to see Clete again, and all our animal friends we have had over the years as well as our family.

It’s a blessing to have family and friends in our lives, whether they are humans or animals. It’s also a blessing to be part of God’s family and to know that Jesus is there for us, no matter what we have to go through in life. He’s our friend, and he loves us. He wants to be our best friend. If he’s not your friend then, you don’t know what you’re missing. Get to know him, today.

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© 2017 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
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DEATH IS EASIER TO ACCEPT WHEN...

It’s hard to say goodbye to anyone we care about, but it’s even more difficult when it’s a family member; especially when death is the one at the door, ready to remove them from your life. You wish you had said more and done more. You think about the time you could have spent with them but didn’t. Now all you can do is cry, and pray, and hope they can hear you when you tell them you love them one last time before they slip away.

That’s all we could do as we stood there in the hospital, waiting for my dad to die. He had accepted it, and so had we. What else could we do? We had been praying and praying. For months, we had been asking God to heal him and get him back on his feet. He had improved several times, but it never lasted long.

Things had gotten so bad that he just wanted to die. He was so sick and weak. He was tired of hurting. His heart rate had dropped, his blood pressure was really low, and his potassium level was almost non-existent. He was vomiting up bile and stomach acid. His kidneys were not working, and he had diarrhea. He was passing blood through his stool and he had a high fever. The doctors did all they could, but they told us they didn't expect him to make it this time.

I thought about how strong he had always been, or maybe he was just plain stubborn. I don’t know. For years, he never went to the doctor. I never remember him having any major health problems. He had back surgery when he was nineteen years old. He had a pretty bad case of ulcers about twenty-five years ago. After that, he started going to the doctor regularly. A few years ago he had surgery to repair a hernia. He found out he had a touch of diabetes, and his blood pressure was a little high, so he took some pills for that and had to watch what he ate. Overall, though, he seemed to be doing okay for his age.

Then, that all changed. In the Autumn of 2015, he started passing fresh blood through his stool. He went to the doctor and discovered he had a tumor inside his colon. It was cancer. He had it removed, along with part of his colon. Not long after that, he got really sick and had to go back to the hospital. This time it was his gallbladder. They opened him up to remove it, but it was so inflamed and swollen that they couldn’t get it out immediately. It was actually stuck to his liver and intestines. The doctor said it was a big mess in there. It was the worst case he had ever seen. They closed him back up and put in some tubes to drain all the infection out before it could be removed, and they sent him home. He went back every few weeks for the doctor to check and see if it had improved enough to operate.

Then he started seeing and hearing things that weren’t there so he had to go back to the hospital. This time, the doctors said he had the symptoms of early dementia. He was agitated and upset, so they started giving him something to calm him down. It only made him worse. He was seeing things and dreaming terrible dreams, and he believed it was all real. He was so afraid he actually called 911 from the hospital. He was constantly trying to escape because he thought someone was trying to kill him, and eventually he believed that they actually had. It was so sad. It broke my heart to see him in that condition and to know there was nothing I could do about it. He was too weak to stand and walk by himself, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He crawled out of bed, and fell to the floor, and damaged his knee and ankle.

His potassium kept dropping to dangerous levels so that was a factor in opening him back up as well. They finally got it to stay up long enough to get his gallbladder out, and soon he was back in his right mind. The infection from the gallbladder had poisoned his system and made him delusional. Then the medicine they gave him to calm him down had only added to that. It was great to be able to have a normal conversation with him again.

We had to put him in rehab to try and get him walking again before he could go home. He was still so weak he was unable to do much for his rehabilitation. His potassium levels were still crazy and then several other problems developed and he just went downhill from there.

Now he was lying there dying, and there was nothing we could do to change that fact. We kept praying and asking God to make him well. The next day his vital signs all stabilized, and he was awake and talking. God answered our prayers once again. We were all so thankful. They moved him to a room, and in about a week he was able to go back to rehab. He was still not strong enough to do the exercises, and he was still sleeping a lot. He was still very weak and he was not improving. He got dehydrated again so the doctor sent him back to the hospital, and this time the ER doctor discovered that his Magnesium was low. He said Magnesium works with Potassium, and low levels of either one affect the heart and blood pressure.

More tests revealed what his stomach problem was. He had a pretty bad ulcer, so the doctor prescribed some medication for that. After getting the Magnesium and Potassium levels back up, he was more alert, wide awake, and laughing and joking again. He could raise himself up and sit on the side of the bed so they released him.

He didn’t want to go back to the nursing home for rehab, and we didn’t want him back there either. He wanted to go home. So, my mother and my sisters and I took turns staying with him until he could get well, but he never did. He only continued to get worse. He was in and out of the hospital for several weeks, then he was put on Hospice and we had to prepare ourselves all over again for him to die. It was so hard seeing him suffer all those months, but it was even harder to say our final goodbyes when we buried him.

We had hope and we believed God was going to heal him. I guess that’s why it was so hard to accept his death. He was supposed to get well. We were waiting for that miracle, but it never came.

The true miracle had already come several months before he got sick. He had accepted Jesus as his Savior and was born again. We saw a big change in him. He had been a cruel man. He had a filthy mouth and wasn’t considerate of anyone. He said whatever came into his mind, and it was usually vulgar. He was hateful and vindictive, mean-spirited, and sometimes hard to be around.

We were all amazed at the transformation God took him through in those months. For years, he sang and recorded Country music. Then he started singing and recording gospel songs, too. God had made a big change in him. That was the true miracle. For him to change like that after all those years had to be the work of the Creator.

It has been almost seven years since he died and I still miss him terribly. The new him, that is, and I’m looking forward to seeing him again after Jesus returns. The greatest gift anyone can give to their family when they die is the peace of knowing that they were saved and ready to go. It was sad to see our dad suffer and die, but, it would have been so much worse if we did not have that assurance. Think about it for a minute. If you were to die today, could your family have that assurance, and even more important, do you have it? If not, it’s time to do something about it. We’re not promised tomorrow. Jesus wants to save you. He wants to give you peace and eternal life. Will you let him?

If you need more information on how to be saved, read “What Must I Do To Be Saved?” You can have that assurance today, and leave your loved ones with the peace of mind that comes with knowing you were saved when you died, and you can have the assurance of eternal life with Jesus, who willingly suffered and died for you. Don’t put it off. Do it today.

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My Blogs
https://teddylynn.blogspot.com
https://teddylynn.wordpress.com

© 2017 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
https://www.amazon.com/Teddy-Lynn/e/B01MZDB6L6

UPDATED 02/11/2023