“Put Your Finger On it and Pray”

Before I get into the conversation I had with a store clerk yesterday, I will offer a little explanation of a facial feature I have and detest. I have a large white mole over the left side of my right eyebrow. I have had it since high school, only it wasn’t very big then. My father hated it. He always wanted me to have it removed, but we did not have health insurance, and I did not have the money to have it removed. It was still small in my early married life and I never looked into having removed even when we had good health insurance. When I became pregnant with my oldest the mole started growing and became the annoying. I finally went and had it removed, but was warned by the doctor that it might come back even larger. She was right; it did come back even larger. So now I’m stuck with it.

Yesterday I went to Hancock Fabrics to pick up some sewing notions and while I was checking out the clerk asked “What is that on your face?” I told her it was a mole or wart, not sure. The clerk who was not American born, but I am not good at guessing countries of origin so do not know where she was from, then told me that she and her husband were born again Christians and that he had a mole/wart like thing in the middle of his forehead that was a like a horn. She used wart remover on it and it did not go away. She said her husband then started putting his finger on it and praying that God would take the thing away. She said it then went away after many weeks of praying.

She told me that I needed to go home and “put your finger on it and pray.”

I thought the whole conversation was interesting, although I thought it was rude of her to point out my mole in the first place. I thanked her for her advice and left. I did not want to get into a long discussion with her, but if I had I would have told her that I did not think my mole was worth praying over to God.

So I won’t be putting my finger on it and praying. The mole is part of my face. I don’t like it. I think it is hideous, but it is part of me, and I know that having it removed will not help. I do not dwell on the fact that I have one mole on my face. I see it in the mirror and frown at it every night, but that is about the extent of my relationship with the mole.

I do think about all the people in the world with huge disfigurements, burns, birthmarks, scars, or any of several diseases that can change a face. I knew a girl whose face was almost completely covered by a “port-wine stain.” She hated all the stares she received. Just as Raymond hated how people stared at where his leg should have been.

No a mole is not worth praying over. Acceptance of all, no matter what they look like, now that is something I cannot put my finger on, but I can certainly pray about each and every day.