Tuesday September 30, 2014




Sometimes God lets us fall

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The note from my older sister made me chuckle so long I knew I had to share it. Her comments, however, need a bit of backstory.

After a pleasant two-day visit to Beverly’s B.C home in mid-June, the Preacher and I gathered our suitcases and bags for an early morning departure. From our upstairs guest room, he made his way out to the car, leaving me to follow with my part of the luggage. Instead of making two trips, I loaded up, camel-like (bags dangling from all available body parts), entered the dark hall (not thinking to turn on a light) and headed down the stairs. Hoping not to wake the household.

Ha.

Almost at the landing, I missed the last stair, tumbled forward and landed with spectacular graceless-ness, punching a nasty gash in the wall with my elbow.

Fast forward to Beverly’s note, reporting on a conversation she later had with her youngest granddaughter, barely three, about the damage I caused:

“Our little Suzy is absolutely fascinated by the hole in our wall and the story that goes with it. First you have to understand that Suzy is our little accident prone girl. She trips and falls quite easily. So there are quite a few rules for her in regards to going up and down the stairs. We always make sure someone is watching her, making sure she’s holding onto the railing, and holding her hand. Usually me.

“She has asked me to tell her the story of your fall at least three times today. And after the telling she goes up to the hole and sticks her little fist in it!

“After the last time she was very thoughtful and she asked me if I had been watching you. I said no. Then she asked me if you were holding onto the rails. Again I had to say no.

“Finally she said, “why didn’t you hold her hand?”

“So you see, somehow or other, your accident is my fault.

“I had already explained to her you were coming downstairs in the dark, carrying suitcases, but to her that didn’t make any sense.  If I had been there, if I had been watching, you would’ve been hanging onto the rails, I would’ve been holding your hand and you would not have fallen.

“Oh, the wisdom of the little ones. Telling her it might have helped if you’d turned on the light makes no difference at all! All the more reason I should have been holding your hand!!

“So next time you come to my house, we will have some new stair rules for you too!

“I love you and miss you and do feel guilty about your fall. Beverly.”

Like any wise parent, God often lets us suffer the results of our own poor choices (even when a GOOD sister could prevent them!) but I’m still kicking myself for not turning on that light. Or I would be, if my sprained ankle would let me. Thankfully, it’s healing nicely.


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