They say it’s the little things in life that mean the most.
Well, the other day, one of those “little things” for our family was a walk.
Not just any walk — but a sort of impromptu pilgrimage to the spot where my husband sustained a life-threatening injury while riding his mountain bike just over five months ago.
As I explained in No News is Good News, the first 72 hours were touch and go…and at one point, we didn’t know if he’d ever walk again.
Our visit to the trail marked the first time he’d been back since the day of the accident and by God’s grace, this time he was returning as a triumphant conqueror — standing on his own two feet in the very spot where he had once lay paralyzed on the ground.
Going back to this spot was emotional to say the least.
As we arrived at the trail head, I couldn’t deny the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. They say lightning never strikes in the same place twice, but something about heading back to that fateful location made me wish I’d bubble-wrapped him before we came. 😬🫣
However, after a tranquil ten minute stroll down a surprisingly quiet, shady trail, I was feeling a little calmer about our visit.
Then, as we approached a clearing in the woods, my husband’s pace suddenly slowed to a halt.
“Here it is,” he said.
Here is what? I thought, squinting hard and shielding my eyes against the bright rays of Florida sunshine.
“This is where I crashed,” he continued, motioning toward the wide sandy plain straight ahead.
I was stunned.
The scene was not what I expected at all. No dips, curves, twists, or turns…just flat land as far as the eye could see.
And then a long, straight wooden platform caught my eye — it was the ramp my husband had fallen from.
Nearly camouflaged by a mixture of nearby sawgrass and sand, it’s low profile was no more than three feet off the ground — nothing like the Evil Kinevil-style stunt ramp I had imagined in my head.
To be honest, it looked more like something a kindergartener with training wheels could have dismounted with their eyes closed.
Which left me scratching my head and begging the question:
“How could someone with so much experience navigating the twisting terrain of off-road trails be taken down in such an unlikely place?”
Now, maybe that sounds like quite a judgmental question to pose, even rhetorically, but I promise I’m not trying to belittle the situation at all.
In fact, my husband has pondered these questions himself over the last five months.
And in his own words, he explains that he simply misjudged the ramp, failing to gain the momentum required to properly dismount. This caused the front wheel of his bicycle to take a nose dive, sending him careening over the handle bars and onto his neck…and, well, the rest is history.
It was a momentary lapse of judgment with life-altering consequences.
But…isn’t that the way life goes?
Not only is it the little things in life that mean the most…but it’s oftentimes the little things that trip us up the most as well.
Maybe that’s why the Bible says, let anyone who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall (I Corinthians 10:12).
It’s often in our comfort zones and our daily routines, when our guard is down and we think we’re safe, that we can be blindsided by the little things in life — a lesson my husband learned the hard way…and I think if we’re honest, we all can relate to in some regard.
I can tell you from personal experience that I’ve struggled with my faith more in the last few months than I ever did during the three weeks we spent in the hospital…and those were supposed to be the hardest times, right?
Wrong.
During those three weeks, though they were incredibly difficult, God was everywhere in my heart and in my life…and it showed.
Every serendipitous coincidence was not just happenstance…God was alive and working on our behalf.
He heard our prayers and the prayers of our loved ones. God really is near to the broken hearted…an ever present help in time of need. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t need a study Bible to explain that — I felt it.
And for that reason, during those three short weeks, nearly every phrase coming from my mouth was either a prayer, praise, or testimony to the grace and power of the one true and living God.
By all logical reasoning, those should have been some of the hardest days of my life…but with God, they were not only manageable, they were faith-building.
And yet, when we got home…that’s when things surprisingly felt like they got really hard.
But it made no sense to me.
After all, at home, we were no longer dealing with matters of life and death, but with the little things of life — juggling doctors appointments, therapy sessions, hospital bills and new medications in addition to the normal grind of dishes, laundry, dinner, and school functions.
Suddenly and very unexpectedly, the faith that was so “unsinkable” began drowning in a sea of to-do’s and what-if’s…and I’m ashamed to say that I was no longer turning my cares into prayers…but swears…and over the littlest things.
Like my husband, I underestimated the ramp into our new life and how difficult it was going to be to manage the transition…and figuratively speaking, it sent me careening over the handlebars of life as well.
But the good news is this:
Just as by the grace of God my husband stood up after his fall, I know that I will too — “For a righteous person falls seven times and rises again” (Proverbs 24:16a).
Maybe you’ve been there before. Spiritually speaking, maybe you were blindsided by the little things and you’ve made a misjudgment that has led to a life-altering fall.
You can still get up.
There’s no need to remain paralyzed by it when God has the power to heal and restore.
By His power, God can make you stand in the very places that you fell.
Through Christ we are more than conquerors. We are overcomers through Him alone!
Until next time,
PWAP
