I came in from a run yesterday and here's how the conversation went with my husband...."I fell again today, honey." "What? Again...how many times is this?" "Oh, I don't know...I guess you'd need a few hands and feet to count it all." "I'm going to have to order you a puffy suit or something like the Pillsbury Dough boy outfit so you can run around in that and not get hurt." "Great...then when I fall it will be more of a...aaaah, boing....aaaah, boing....aaaah, boing." "Well, at least you won't get hurt every time you fall." UGH!
It's true. I have fallen/tripped when I run many more times than I care to admit. It's not that it's a medical issue or anything...let's just say that I am...what one might call...accident prone. When I run I find myself truly enjoying my surroundings. I mean I love the trees and houses and flowers. I find myself thinking...ooh, I like that front door...or, those flowers are so beautiful....or what were they thinking with the rocks. And then it's....aaaah, SPLAT!...flat on my face on the concrete. Now, I'm not talking in some remote area that I run. I run in neighborhoods and main streets. So yes...everyone and their brother has seen me fall flat on my face.
I've decided it is a humbling experience for me. It's like the time when you get toilet paper stuck on the bottom of your shoe and finally someone tells you. Or when you have something stuck in your teeth and you just chat away with it in there. It's humbling...God humbles. He grounds us...to remind us...that there are much greater things than ourselves.
So, as I pick myself up...once again...I am reminded that God humbles for a reason. I just wish mine didn't hurt so much.
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