a plank in my own eye

Monday was the first day in a looooooong time that our grass needed some TLC.  It’s been so dry here that I wondered if I was in the clear, but we got a little hurricane-rain, and the yard responded.  So I dragged out the tools of the yardman and went to work.  Not long into the string-trimmin’, a rogue clipping launched itself skyward.  Almost in slow-motion, I saw the evil sliver headed toward my face.  Naturally, being the fearless man that I am, and armed (eyed?) with protective safety glasses (the cool kind that hip yardmen wear, not the geeky science class kind), I didn’t flinch.

Hindsight being what it is, I should have flinched.

The projectile found its way into my right eye.  I knew that I was in troubl right away.  I couldn’t blink it out.  The trick that I learned from GI Joe (yep, the cartoon with a life lesson at the end of every show) of pulling the upper eyelid over the lower was no help.  I sprinted into the house, found a mirror (right where I left it, btw), and did a little ocular surgery.

But the damage was done.  I had a miserable, red, watering eye.  I scratched the surface of my eyeball, and it hurt.

Jesus talked about things in eyes (Matthew 7)

And why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye when you have a log in your own? How can you think of saying to your friend, ‘Let me help you get rid of that speck in your eye,’ when you can’t see past the log in your own eye? Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye.

Let me assure you, friend–when I have a log in my own eye, that’s about all I need to concern myself with.  Seriously.  That’s not good.