Death by Paper Cut

I agree paper cuts are so small but they hurt so much to the receiver, its like my Glam daughter is closer to two than one, she occasionally is uncomfortable. It maybe her nose running , her eyes watering, gas or anything that makes her uncomfortable, but to my candy drop it is the worst thing ever. She will cry at the drop of uncomfortableness, but deep down I know that it is not that bad. “Our” paper cuts to God is not that bad, but just like I run to my candy drops aid, He runs to our aide when we cry out for help! and even still before we cry out for help. I love the term paper cut not because I don’t get it, but because they are annoying & I would not be human if I said I had not experienced them.


One of the most difficult things about life anywhere, and life lived across cultures for sure, is that often it’s no one big thing that slays me…at least not yet.  It’s all the small things that add up and threaten to take me down.  Taken alone, each cut seems relatively minor and superficial, like a paper cut, but they sting.  Each and every cut stings and there’s no time to put on a Band-Aid before the next cut comes.

Talking about what hurts seems silly sometimes.  It’s just a paper cut, why am I so upset about a paper cut?  I minimize and compare.  I don’t suffer like that other person who really stood up for their faith in a stressful situation of direct confrontation.  No one really hurt me, right?  I’m still alive, aren’t I?  I discount the cut and fail to treat it.

Again and again the cuts…

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