As a small girl, I loved to run.
On summer days, I frequently ran as fast as I could on the gravel road in front of our house. I could hear my mother admonishing me to stop running because I would fall. Sure enough, I would hit the unforgiving roadway while still in motion. With skinned knees, elbows, and hands, I was a wounded little sprinter.
I knew my mother watched from the kitchen window, so I just lay on the stony, dusty ground while crying, waiting for her to help me up. I could hear her yelling in the distance, “Get back up!” I hobbled up or waited until she came to my aid.
Soon, I was back outside, patched up and ready for new adventures. The bruises and scrapes on my knees seemed to be more serious because we little girls always wore dresses back then, even outside to play.
I sported those bandages with great pride and as much pageantry as if they were war medals. Once out on the stony laden road again, I ran with the breeze loosening the ribbon in my hair and causing the lacey collar on my dress to flap against my face.
As adults, we often stumble as we tread through our days. Usually, we can get back up on our own when we take such a tumble, but at other times, we cannot because our injuries are too extensive. Sometimes, we incur an emotional or unseen wound, such as a broken heart that takes us down. Occasionally, we wait in our misery for help to arrive, even though we could get back up in our own strength.
Like an attentive parent who watches over us, God wants to lovingly and gently help us up and heal our wounds. He will either strengthen us or send someone else. Additionally, He will apply His unlimited supply of God-sized bandages as needed so we can resume our journey under His ever-watchful eye.
The next time you fall and are bruised and broken, ask your heavenly Father for help.
(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)
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