The Miracle of Band-Aids

Around our house there are several things that we keep in large supply. Ticonderoga pencils, Milk, Eggs, Protein Powder, Apples, Grapes, and Band-Aids. The list is a little odd, but every item has purpose. I love Ticonderoga pencils, but my kids steal them, so I’ve started buying them in bulk. We drink a lot of milk. Angela needs eggs for cooking and our children love boiled eggs. The wife and I drink protein for breakfast nearly every morning (and I drink it many other times during the day). Apples and grapes are staples in lunch boxes and easy snacks. And, finally, Band-Aids are a miracle cure.

We are not committed to name brand bandages. Sometimes we have the kind with cartoon characters, but more times than not we have the drug store brand or the bandages most recently on sale. What is important is not the kind, but the presence of bandages because they are a miracle cure. Tears of nearly every kind childhood offers can be cured by Band-Aids. We keep them in our vehicles, in the medicine cabinet, in bat bags, with my hunting gear, and I even keep a couple in my wallet so that I can work miracles on the run at the drop of a hat.

Of course bandages for a small cut or a mosquito bite do not actually make anything feel better. That paper cut is the same with or without the bandage, but to a child, Band-Aids can make everything better. As adults we can argue about the absurdity of a Toy Story Band-Aid for a bug bite or we can work a small miracle for 10 cents. We can be right (logically) or we can be compassionate and caring. We can try to help our kids recognize the ridiculousness of their request or we can meet their immediate need and begin the process of healing their wounds.

In life, I find that we often need to offer Band-Aids to those around us who have been hurt or are suffering. The kind of bandages I’m suggesting here are similar to those I keep in my wallet. Often the things hurting people ask for make no sense to us on the outside. We recognize that their requests are not logical, but rather than ignoring the requests and moving on to something that makes more sense to us, we should be focusing on meeting their needs and beginning the process of healing their wounds.

Be willing to meet people right where they are.

Do they just want you to sit with them? Maybe they like Folgers coffee and do not need us to tell them better. Moving their furniture may actually be a part of the grieving process for them. It is only after you have met peopl in their place of their hurt and pain that you can have the opportunity to walk with them into healing and health.

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