At the movies the other night, I reminded myself why I have a stye on my pointer finger. In the movie, Benjamin Franklin obsesses over electricity. I always thought the kite story was somewhat apocryphal. In legend, Franklin touches a key tied to his kite string when lightning strikes his kite in a storm.

I had a similar experience with a kite and high-voltage electricity, but it wasn’t during a thunderstorm. It was during our deployment in Hawaii. My twelve-year-old self had found some sticks from a broken kite and some Christmas wrapping paper.

My homemade kite proved to be an eager flier. Somehow, it proved airworthy and I quickly reached the end of my line spool, holding the kite string with just my pointer finger and thumb.

The open space where I chose to fly my kite was in a courtyard surrounded by houses. Things were going well, until it began to rain. I tried to bring my kite in, but like an unruly toddler, it simply drifted toward a nearby high line wire. I gingerly tugged on the kite string, and in the next instant, I found myself violently shaken and thrown on the ground. Except my brain still thought I was running. I’ll never forget the smell of burning flesh coming from my finger. I think the stye I now have on my finger is a result of the shock.

In an act of kindness, a neighbor came out with a stick of butter and applied it to the finger. I got to my feet and staggered home. Along the way, I spied my kite lying across the alley, tempting me to wrap it up and bring it home. I passed. I’d experienced all the kite-flying fun I wanted that day.

That’s why I doubt that old Ben touched the key with his finger. My experiment calls this myth “busted.” Later, when I read in Hebrews 10:31 “It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God,” I can relate. When you encounter great power, you’d best respect Him.