by Cynthia Ward
Last week I found myself on my hands and knees at the bottom of my bathtub thanking God.
Let’s just say I graduated from large sizes a long time ago and have been wrapped up in XXL most of my adult life. So falling is something that is dangerous both for me and for those around me. So it wasn’t a good start to my day when a bar of soap gone crazy and the lack of support from the shower curtain sent me to the bottom of the tub. I landed hard on my hands and knees. I held that pose for at least a minute before the pain kicked in. Even with the pain spreading up my limbs, I thanked God I landed the way I did and not on my backside, unable to get off the floor by myself. Visions of paramedics peeling me off the floor, all wet and slippery, and dragging me off to the emergency room were very real.
I slowly, and painfully, hoisted myself to a standing position, checked to make sure nothing was broken, and tried to slow down the rapid beating of my heart. I paused for a few minutes, waiting to see if the others in my home had heard—or felt—the fall and
might come to check out the damages. But all was quiet.
For the rest of the day, every time I stood, walked or sat, I was painfully reminded of my morning adventure. I repeated the story many times throughout the day and, after the first couple of times, was able to join in the laughter at my expense.
When I arrived home at the end of the day, I told my mother of my morning mishap. She responded, “I thought I heard something.” When I asked my sister, her response was much the same, but she added, “I figured if you needed help, you would have called out to us.”
How many times have you been down on your hands and knees, still resisting the urge to call out for help because you were too embarrassed to have people see how stupid you are? In Revelation 3:20 Jesus tells us, “Behold I stand at the door and knock.” He is right there, just waiting for us to call out to Him. He already knows what I’ve done, and yet He still waits for me to call out to Him.