Getting burned

Just yesterday the girls and I were playing out front.  Adley ran up the sidewalk toward our house.  As a mom, I'm always watching, the best I can, both kids.  I glanced.  I knew where she was going, opposite the road, this meant safety to me.  She was to my right, I could see everything.

I glanced back, playing with Elyse in the grass.  Within seconds I heard the screams.  I looked, saw nothing out of place but instictively walked to her.  She was standing, both hands flat against the front door.  As my body caught up with my mind, my walk turned into a sprint, her hands still flat against the door.  As quickly as I could I picked her up.  The wails continued, the tears abundant.  I assessed her hands, pink yes, hot yes, but she was okay.

The screaming didn't stop and the tears didn't cease.  Within minutes blisters surfaced and she was trembling.  I grabbed a cold compress but she couldn't stop shaking, stop crying.  She clutched her blanket and me as she shook and screamed.

This is where we are today.

The blisters are breaking, revealing raw, tender, pink new skin.  It looks awful and it is, but this hasn't slowed her down a bit.  

My neighbor, wife of a Pediatrician, sweet as she is, insisted I take her to urgent care or the ER.  Second degree burns on a baby are no joke was the argument.  My instinct whispered "it will blister and heal, she will be in pain but we are designed and equipped, this will heal".   The whisper gave way to the wails of my daughter and the pleas of someone I figured new better.  

We went to urgent care, I don't regret that we did, but they didn't do a thing.  One more lesson in learning to trust myself.  Believe in my assessment skills of my kids.

What struck me after was why.  Like any mother would, I replayed the incident over and over.  What really happened?  Could this have been prevented?  Why are my daughters hands burned?  Then came the lesson.

She didn't let go of the door.

That's what scalded her tender skin and peeled away the layers.  She stood there, palms flat against the culprit, as she screamed.  Her flesh was burning and she didn't pull away. 

 For her it's a developmental thing.  For me it's more.  Letting go of something that burns.  

Do I pull my hands quickly enough away form scalding sources?  Scalding sources that appear as safe and secure as the welcoming presence of a front door.  

They can still burn.  

Unlikely sources can cause great damage when I don't let go.  When I tell myself I'll pull my hands away faster this time.  If a show, a song, a movie, a glass of wine, a situation, all present at room temperature where I feel comfortable, quickly and quietly heat to the point of burning, do I pull away?  Do I linger and get burned?

I don't want a life of raw skin and blisters......but I can learn from them.  The raw skin can bring healing, repentance and a new, fresh layer that is often stronger with callous than the first.  Adley gently touches the broken skin and pokes at the raised bubbles.  I wonder what she's thinking and if she connects the event to the injury.  My raw skin and blisters can remind me of where I've been and where not to go again.  They serve as a lesson in Divine healing and the ability to move forward, sometimes sore, but never permanently.  The integrity of the skin covering the wound will ultimately be restored.

Elyse has timidly approached the door each day since the incident to "test" it.  She swiftly touches it to see if the culprit still possess it's sting.  If the same would happen to her.  It hasn't either time.  She didn't suffer the same consequence but, in learning from her sister, she shouldn't test those waters.  It's a game that shouldn't be played or eventually she will get burned.  

I can be like that as well.  See someone else get burned but assume "that wouldn't happen to me" and place my palm flat against the heat.  It's a game that shouldn't be played or eventually I will get burned.

So much learning in such tiny, exploring hands.....and in big ones too.