As I sit here this morning...feeling rather helpless...I am forced to come face to face with the spiritual lessons my present situation brings affords.
Let me start at the beginning...
On Thursday night the PGR was providing a flag line for the visitation of a young soldier who had been killed in a traffic accident. When I arrived at the funeral home I noticed the 3 flags on the funeral home's sign were not at half-staff. I thought it would be a respectful gesture if they were, so I looked around those who had assembled for the youngest of the bunch and found it was me. No problem, I located a ladder and crawled up on the sign to begin bringing the flags to half-staff. It was quite a reach from the top of the sign and others saw that this might be a time-consuming activity so two other men came up to assist. After I got done with my flag I looked around and one of the men had already jumped down from the sign and another was still using the ladder. Being a little on the impatient side I looked at the height at which I found myself and remembered many other heights from which I had successfully leapt in my younger days. This should be no different, plus I was in a hurry. So off the sign I leaped. And down my feet went into the soft soil of the front yard of the funeral home. Several within hearing distance said that heard a snap, all I heard was the air quickly evacuating my lungs as the landing was somewhat abrupt.
Being a proud man I did not allow anyone to see the pain I was feeling and honestly I wasn't sure just what I was feeling myself, so I walked (or hobbled) around on it for a couple of hours to see if it would improve. Not so, I asked a friend to take me to the emergency room and, sure enough, x-rays proved a broken ankle. So for the past 4 days I have been familiarizing myself with a primitive form of locomotion called crutches. What an ineffective means of movement! Not user friendly at all!
I've managed to do okay with showering with my leg in a trash bag and wearing split jeans to church, but this morning was to be the first attempt at driving. My plan was to drive myself to the orthopedist and then, if necessary, call a friend for a ride home or to the office. But the old truck didn't share my plans. The heat I suppose was too much for the battery and I didn't even get a click this morning. Thanks to Jaycob for being available to be my chauffeur. The good news is that there is no need for surgery...just 6 weeks in a cast followed by a few weeks in a walking boot.
In the meantime, Lord help me to remember patience, wisdom and that the best way to speed up is to slow down. Help me to remember that the devil is a roaring lion seeking to devour us at every turn and will throw all manner of obstacle in our path. Help me to be ready and be wary, for there are ways to combat the fiery darts of the evil one. Help me be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.
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