I have a love/hate relationship with stairs. I am fascinated by them. There are so many different kind of stairs. Wooden, metal, concrete, spiral, straight, wide, narrow, etc.
Stairs lead to rows and rows of books in libraries. Stairs lead to subways. They lead to gardens and lakes. There are stairs in the woods.
In our home, the stairs lead to our bedrooms. They were originally carpeted. Several years ago we ripped out the carpet then painted them white. Most recently I painted the treads a dark color. (Behr: Coal Mine)
I have walked these stairs many, many times throughout the past 33 years. Many of those times were during the dark of night, while everyone was sleeping. I know these stairs like the back of my hand. I have a rhythm when climbing them. I also know what it feels like to fall down them and yes to also to fall up them. 99 percent of the time I go up and down these stairs without incident. Although, when I’m distracted, my hands are full of laundry, or the dog gets under my feet, I will lose my footing, lose my way, trip and fall. It’s like that in life as well. We’re going along our normal everyday path, same thing we do everyday, day in-day out and something or someone pops in and trips us. We miss a step. Something wraps around our ankles and causes us to stumble and fall on our face. It came out of nowhere and we have no idea how it happened. It was completely unexpected. We feel the pain of it. We end up bruised and battered. Broken. Wounded.
We pick ourselves up. When the wounds are physical we apply a band aid or sometimes an ace bandage. When the wound is emotional there is a greater answer. We go to the Book. We go to the Rock, our Jehovah Rapha. Our Healer. He IS faithful to restore. We get back to our normal walk, hopefully stronger than ever before. We regain our confidence and our joy returns. We press toward the mark. It may be slow, but it’s sure.
Until we meet again, it’s just An Average Day on Everidge, Fifi
Psalm 119:105 Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet.