Last week was rough. In the midst of dealing with the pain of losing my ministry and many friends, I found myself under intense pressure to deliver far more than I have resources. Coupled with health issues, I was pretty well done with life. One evening, I yelled at God and told him that if I did not wake up the next day, that would be gain.
Waking up was indeed a
disappointment – but I got out of bed and started on chores to stay
distracted. Working in the forest at the
bottom of our garden I slipped and fell, and bashed my head on a tree
stump. It was the hardest hit I have
ever experienced. When my wife and son
saw the blood, they shoved me into a car and rushed to the ER. Two hours, a CT
scan, and four staples later I was told I still have a brain and it seemed to be working OK. My whole
right side hurt like crazy with bruises and scrapes.
Later that evening we
walked back down to the scene of the crime to find my shoes. We wondered at how lightly I had got off,
considering the height I had fallen and the shape of the stump I had hit. It was surprising that I had survived at all.
I can almost hear God
snickering. He took me to (indeed,
beyond) the edge, and then protected me.
He heard my demands – and said “No!”
He wants me alive, even if hurting.
For what purpose I have no idea.
Time to be still and
listen for directions…
