Stand

‘Mum! Dad’s had an accident!’ The terror in her voice sent my pulse racing and my mind leaping. ‘Here, he’s on the phone.’

He’s conscious… breathe, I tell myself. He’d hit black ice on a roundabout. His motorbike just slid right out from under him. The road met him hard. Some people had helped him lift his bike and he’d rode the rest of the way into work, where he was now, unable to move.

‘I’m coming, I’ll take you to the ED.’ I try not to let the panic into my voice as I zip up my boots and give in to daughter 2 – how could she go to school when her dad’s broken? Daughter 1 has woken in the chaos and wants to come too, but panic sees her no further than the bathroom where she retches violently.

The traffic is slow, painfully so. I approach his work and see him. He’s walking, kind of…breathe. He’s as pale as a ghost and in incredible pain. But he’s conscious and he’s standing…breathe.

When life slides out from under you and you’re left gasping for breath, where do you go, where do you turn? It’s enough to just keep your head above the water, put one foot in front of the other, do the next thing. Everything becomes blurry around the edges, and you stand. Just stand.

Stand in the darkness. Stand in the pain. Stand in the waves of worry, doubt, anxiety, the unknown. Stand in depression, stand in the bullying, stand when they’re all against you. Stand on shaky legs, stand with your head weighed down, stand with bits of you falling apart. Just stand.

And know, on Christ, the ground beneath you is solid rock.

He’s fine now, except when he sneezes.

Ephesians 6:10-18

For Reflection:

What circumstance in your life is requiring you to stand?

Take a moment to reflect on what or who you are standing on, or relying on. Is it solid? Can it be taken away? Is it nurturing you?