Falling down….
Actually the morning of June 22nd,
I believe that God ‘pushed me down’ as I walk down the sidewalk to join
myDarlin’ Robert in the car on the way to church. That’s pretty strange, huh?
As I look back over the past year since Robert’s first heart attack, I am
seeing very clearly that God has orchestrated every moment of our lives.
My right foot just missed the sidewalk, twisting and hurling
me face first into the hedge. It’s one of those where you are trying to catch
yourself, and making lots of ‘Whoa…whoa….whoa’ noises. Robert rushes back up the
drive saying, “Baby, baby, are you OK?” to which I reply, “just call me Grace.”
I brush the dewy leaves from my purse, and get in the car. We look at my ankle
which seems to be fine.
At church, Robert is up on stage playing his Martin guitar,
the first one that we bought together, and I take my slippers off as my ankle
is just a bit sore. Worship concludes, Pastor Ron begins to preach and Robert
comes to sit with me on the aisle seat on the second row. He takes his shoes
off too and presses his feet against mine. All through our eleven years, our
feet have been leading us to today and how fitting that we would exchange that
little expression of love in church.
Sometimes there’s a reason we fall and we should be
grateful. With each and every fall, there’s a message if we’ll just take the
time to open it.
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