I was alone in our kitchen busily prepping dinner, and had retrieved a large sauté pan from a 400-degree oven and placed it on top of the stove. After doing some quick cleanup at the sink, I turned back to the stove. Momentarily forgetting where the pan had just come from, I grabbed the metal handle full-tilt with my bare left hand.
It was clear to me from the intense pain that this wasn’t a minor burn. What hurt almost as much as the physical pain was my anger at myself for having been in such a hurry that I wasn’t more careful.
But instead of drowning in self-condemnation, I immediately did two things: 1) I began praying, and 2) I refused to look at the injured area. My prayer was a heartfelt yearning for a sense of dominion over the situation, instead of victimization. I struggled to shut out unproductive thoughts like, “Your hand is stinging badly,” or “You kind of deserve to get burned for being so careless!” I declared with all my heart that I was pure and innocent and ever connected to, or one with, my Father-Mother, God. As God’s loved child, I never deserved to be punished.
