The Nail that Pierced My Foot

The NailI remember walking outside in the evening dusk to talk to my husband and son. The air was warm, a perfect ending to a spring day. Excited to share some news, I hurried out the door and walked to the end of the carport when suddenly I felt a horrible pain piercing through my shoe and into my foot.

I fell onto a pile of wood with one board securely impaled to my foot. The nail went all the way through and even punctured the skin on the top. I remember the pain as my son pulled the board, separating the nail from my body.¬†Unspeakable pain. The nail was about the size of the one in the picture…a roofing nail. Sound painful? It’s not something I wish to endure again!

Yet, this was so minor compared to the pain Jesus suffered, after being beaten severely, dehydrated, and then his hands and feet nailed to a wooden cross with nails more like spikes than this simple little piece of metal.

We all know the story. If you watched “Passion of the Christ” you saw a good reenactment of what happened. It’s worse than anything we have ever endured or most likely will ever endure in our lifetime. Yet He took on the burden placed upon Him at birth because of His love for His Father and His love for us.

Whenever I read the story of his crucifixion, I cry as I remember the lesser¬†pain of the nail that pierced my foot. I’m humbled at being loved that much. My family helped me, and I had modern medicine to heal me. Jesus had no one. His heart was bigger than any of ours and I just want to share His loving spirit. And so I pray, I give thanks, and I ask for forgiveness every day.

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