Many years ago, when I was wading through some seaweed in the water at the beach, my foot was cut just below the ankle—probably by a large broken seashell.
There was no convenient place to clean the deep wound that was bleeding profusely, so I wrapped up the foot with my T-shirt and had my girlfriend (now my wife) drive me home. During the long car trip, I prayed a little and kept my thoughts elevated and joyous. I wasn’t too concerned about the cut. Growing up, I’d often had cuts, scrapes, and skinned knees, and they’d always healed quickly.
When I arrived home, I cleaned the wound with soap and water as best I could and placed a bandage on it. The next day while showering, I noticed that there was still some drainage coming from the wound. And while getting dressed for work, I found that my foot had swollen to the extent that I couldn’t get my shoe on. For the next few days I had to wear slippers, as well as socks, to hide the discoloration of the foot.
