The Battlefield of the Mind

It is easier to criticize myself repeatedly for a mistake than to apply grace. But this fails to live in light of the freedom Christ purchased for me with his blood. One week ago, I held a pocket of pita bread in my left hand like a taco and a brand new bread knife in my right hand. In one sweeping motion I sliced through the crust of the bread as well as my hand. I cut the nerve running down the outside of my index finger. I wrapped it tight with a cloth napkin, applying pressure to slow the bleeding. I unlocked my front door as I called 911 then sat myself on the kitchen floor to prevent myself from passing out. Seven stitches and one hand surgery later, I’ve been reflecting upon how I can learn from this experience rather than spiral in self-frustration. The most obvious of lessons being safety with kitchen knives (PSA!), and the harder of the two lessons being kindness towards myself after a mistake. If anyone else had caused this injury and the resulting repercussions, I know that my response towards them would be, “please don’t be hard on yourself, it was an accident!” But because I was the one who did the damage, my internal dialogue was, “What an idiot. I can’t believe I did this. Why didn’t I stop and think? This was entirely avoidable.” Not only had I cut myself with a knife, but I further cut myself with my thoughts.