Sometimes you have to go see your pediatrician because there’s something growing on the bottom of your foot that needs to go. It’s making it hurt to walk, and you feel quite ashamed that it even exists.
I won’t gross you out with the details, but let’s just say that’s me today.
I always feel strange going into my pediatrician’s office, for a number of reasons.
1) I’m 18, and I still go to my pediatrician.
2) The next oldest patient in there is about 3.
3) I’m tall, so that makes me stick out even more.
They have an aquarium in the waiting area with steps that lead up to it, so that little kids can press their noses us against the glass and marvel at the 5 little fishes that swim around in there. Then there’s a play area on the other side of the room that probably is more of a germ playground than anything else, considering that a lot of sick little kids come through there. There should be a “play at your own risk” sign. Maybe there is one. I’ll check today.
As awkward as it may be, this is my doctor’s office. And when you have something growing on the bottom of your foot that keeps you from walking like you should, it needs to go. Even if it requires some awkward conversation about why it took you so long to come in (well, I actually live in Chicago, and … yes, yes they do have doctors there, but I’d have to go to a hospital for that. … well, yes, I’m sure they could take care of it there…) and maybe some pain when it is removed. Maybe a lotta pain.
Gross things growing on the bottoms of your feet (or mine, I won’t insinuate that you have that going on too) need to go. Also, gross things growing on my heart and mind need to go. The things that make it hard to walk with God, the things that make me ashamed to talk to Him.
Surgery is required. Hopefully the removal of the nasty on my foot today won’t look anything like surgery, but when it comes to my heart and my mind, it probably will. Some of those cankers bind themselves to me, getting in far deeper than they should be allowed to. And, unlike the things growing on my foot, I have control over how much I let them in.
Like the Wicked Witch of the West in water or a mole in the sunlight, these things shrink away from love and light and unselfishness. So, there’s my prescription. Added dose of Jesus.
Take as much as possible as many times as you can daily.