Flaky

I’ve never been what I would call ‘flaky’ – but then I would say that. It may not be true.

In the 60s we called someone flaky if they were unreliable, maybe a bit of an airhead. 

Well, for the last several weeks my eyelid and ears have become flaky. I know that sounds a little gross, and it looks and feels a little gross too. 

Turns out to be a sort of dermatitis, for which strong antidotes are required. I mean serious antidotes, the kind that would disqualify me from international athletics. Cortisone. Steroids. 

I am very reluctantly using these meds. I would much prefer a touch of lavender or olive oil or something else that sounds natural.

But I guess sometimes we have problems that can only be fixed by strong meds. 

This may be a bit of a leap. But take my sin, for instance. It could only be fixed by Jesus dying on the cross.

I would much prefer a telling off by God, and then a cuddle. 

But some things are too serious to be fixed by such an easy solution. Until one realizes that, though, they will just get flakier and flakier.

And on that rather dismal note, I’m off to a couple of days of spiritual fireworks, I hope. Will let you know.