Stairs and I have a special relationship.
I mean really special.
I know they are necessary to get me from one floor to the next. However, really, my life would be easier and less painful without them (both physically and regarding my pride). I’m sure my company security officers have gotten a few chuckles (or maybe even hysterics) watching my acrobatics as I fall down (and sometimes up) the steps.
One day I was leaving work, going down a flight of stairs. As I did, I thought, “I should be careful. I might fall in these shoes.” Just as the thought went through my mind, my knees gave out, my feet stayed in place, and I slid (or rather grated) down the steps knees first, feet tucked under my behind. As soon as I stopped, I pulled my feet out from under me and quickly stood up. I glanced around making sure no one besides the guys behind the cameras saw me and continued out the door. Trying not to cry, and avoiding looking down to see how much blood was rushing out of my body, I gingerly walked to my car. Once inside my car, I assessed the damage and let the tears flow.
Two years later I’m sitting here looking at the scar, a constant reminder of my poor judgement and clumsiness.
It’s a little like my life. I have a few scars from mistakes I’ve made in the past. Some of them still show up every now and then. But, the wound is gone, cleansed and healed by Jesus. We might still see the scars, but all He sees is His child, made perfect through His blood.
“He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit..” Titus 3:5