The Slippery Slope

I had heard my husband’s warning that night: “It’s slippery out there.” But I said that I would go slowly. I said that if it was really that bad, I would return for ice cleats, maybe even trekking poles. And I did creep carefully along, inching my way toward the barn. Then I began to shuffle down that little hill. Suddenly my boot slipped, my left arm waved wildly in the air as I tried to regain my balance, and SPLAT! I sat down hard on the snow-covered hill. “MISTAKE! MISTAKE!” I howled, hoping somebody would hear me. My arm throbbed with pain and my clothes were cold and wet. 

Apparently someone had heard something—what was it? My son peered out the window and saw a silhouette of his mother sitting there on the snowy hillside; soon he arrived to escort me back inside. When I finally hobbled into the house, my husband reminded me of his admonition and promptly placed ice cleats on my boots.

In the Christian life, sometimes we ignore the warning, we slip, we fall. But thankfully when we confess our fault, our heavenly Father forgives us and reaches out His almighty hand to help us up.