Last Friday, I spent the day working on the house. We are doing some remodeling and so I had plenty to do. When Kristi got off work, she and Ethan joined me. I put Ethan to work cutting some 2×4’s in order to frame up a wall to make a closet. He did a great job and in a couple of minutes, we were ready to put them together.
It was tight quarters so I handed the nail gun to him and I held the boards. As he set the nail gun on the board, he took his free hand and grabbed the board for leverage. He then fired a nail into the board – or at least that had been the goal. The nail hit the board at an angle and shot out side-ways. He dropped the gun and gave a yell. My first assumption was that the board splintered off and a piece had hit him. After closer examination I realized that the 16 penny nail had shot through three of his fingers – “nailing” them together!
I would include a picture here but trust me, the sight was not for the faint of heart. But take my word for it, he nailed it!
We then spent the next 2 hours at the emergency room having the nail pulled from his fingers.
By the protective hand of God, the nail did not hit a single bone and at this point, other than some puncture wounds, there does not appear to be any lasting damage!
But as I stood there in that ER with Ethan, I could not help be feel responsible. I wished with all my heart that it had been me and not him that took the nail. But all I could do was stand beside him and try to comfort him.
As I have reflected on that experience it has made me wonder: in some very small way, I wonder if those feelings I had were not unlike the feelings God had as Jesus took the nails for the cross event?
Have you ever experienced having to watch a child suffer?
Clay in the Hands 
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