“How did you fall?,” the paramedic asked a man with a bloodied face.
Of course, that’s not what the paramedic meant. But it seemed like a fair answer to me. And it gave me pause to consider, “How do I fall?”
I know the cause of the fall is important. What am I tripping over? What’s in my way? What am I ignoring? But also important is the direction of my fall, because it indicates where I’m facing and moving. Sometimes we fall forward because we’re in too much of a hurry. But even when we fall in a hurry, we get up where we fell. Our hurry only delays us; it doesn’t push us into fast forward mode. We don’t skip the pain. We don’t skip the path.
I want to be intentional about the path I’m on. I want to be aware of my surroundings but face forward. I want to be aware of obstacles while seeing the broader perspective of what’s around. I want to engage with where I am while anticipating what’s ahead.
Are you falling, or have you fallen recently—emotionally, relationally, spiritually? Backward or forward? Are you rubbing your knees and icing your face, or are you sitting on your bottom?
How long will you nurse your wounds, and where will you go once you regain your strength? Where you face matters. A fall is temporary if you get back up.