THE PRIORITY OF PAIN
I remember when my oldest son, Paul was seven. He had received an Evel Kneivel bicycle with all the trimmings, including a speedometer, for his birthday. The parsonage was at the top of a hill on a gravel road. Paul decided he wanted to see how fast he could go on that bicycle. He was paying more attention to the speedometer than he was to where he was going and he hit a deep chuck hole and wrecked. Two women saw the wreck. One of them came to the door and told us what had happened. I know our memories play tricks on us sometimes, and sometimes we only remember the impressions of the event or what we want to remember. In my mind I can still see her carrying Paul’s limp body up that hill. I really don’t remember if Paul was really unconscious or not. All I really remember is the blood. His chin was busted wide open.…
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