Three thoughts flitted through my mind. ‘I’m flying fast! How did this happen? And This is not going to end well!

It was not my plan for the day—but there I was in the blink of an eye, languishing on the floor.

My task was simple enough, carry the dishes out to the kitchen and drop the napkin in the trash. As I turned away from the trash, I took flight, my feet becoming uncooperative. In the middle of my flight, the floor rose up to greet me.

I landed on my left side not in the kitchen. The plate I was carrying broke and cut into my left elbow to the bone. According to my husband’s words, “I jumped a mile.” Me and the plate made quite a clatter.

On my way down to the floor, I made contact with the chair. I guess I moved it out of the way. Various other parts of my body wanted a piece of the action too. The left elbow got eight stitches, the right forearm was scraped, and my left eye took a hit. Even one of my fingers on the right hand felt the need to be included in the damages.

Dave stood over me, “Are you alright? Get up! Your bleeding!”

Waving my finger, “In a minute.” The pain was real, shocked at what happened—I needed the trembling to stop before even trying to get up. Assessing the damages, we decided a trip to ER was necessary.

Thankfully the emergency waiting room was empty. Or so it seemed. I had to wait for what felt like forever to have a CT scan and some ex-rays—longer still for the doctor to stitch me up. Clearly I was not their first patient of the day.

My short version: I tripped and fell.

I made it through the night (there was no concern of that), alive and well to tell you all about it today. Twenty-twenty hindsight my episode brought a verse from the Good Book to mind.

“It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, those who have died will be raised to live forever. And we who are living will be transformed.”                First Corinthians 15:52

It was a letter written long ago by a guy named Paul, sent to a church in Corinth. His subject matter was a reminder of what will happen in a future event. Jesus had died on a cross but was at some time going to return alive.

He wanted these people to be ready because it can happen when they least expect it. Today, it is safe to say it hasn’t happened yet. But it will. I can safely say this because everything the Good Book predicted happened. Some of it not yet though.

The moral of my story is a recommendation to befriend Jesus. Your eternal life depends on it.