Reforming (phase 1), Hell and Mercy (step 6), session 2

For today's meditation upon hell, I am going to draw upon the pain of the credenza falling on my foot last night and of the burning of the subsequent shots of lidocaine which ultimately numbed my toe so that the doctor could stitch it. In both cases, I knew that the pain would pass. In fact, I was walking around frantically after the credenza landed on my foot, trying to determine whether the toes which hurt were broken, and concluding that as pained as they felt, they were not. In fact, I couldn't feel the toe that is broken and cut. Suppose I could have? That would have been more hellish, I imagine. The burning of the lidocaine as it was being shot into the flesh of my toe and foot certainly was. Yet I knew three things about that which are not true of hell:

• It would be a temporary and passing pain. 
• It was ultimately for the good.

In these two ways, I suppose that the lidocaine was more like purgatory than hell.

• It was localized rather than all-encompassing.

So if I could remove those three elements, my physical pain last night might give me a glimpse into what hell might be like.

(Note to self: two more reflections on hell to write about, maybe in the same future session: watching a loved one make terrible mistakes, and how God feels on our behalf; these might be the same thing.)

They shall return and dwell beneath my shadow, they shall flourish as a garden; they shall blossom as the vine, their fragrance shall be like the wine of Lebanon. - Hos 14, 7

For the second consecutive day, the recommended scripture (Hos 14, 4-10) includes a verse which appears not to exist. 

But this reminder from God that he has prepared a better and ultimate answer for our exile is exactly the call to patience that I need as an answer to my circumstances.