Fall Risk!

Over the past year and a half, my husband has frequently fallen.

Time and again, I have phoned the local emergency medical services personnel to come pick him up from the floor and put him into a chair—or the ambulance, as the situation necessitated. Each time, a paramedic would ask, “Mr. Sutton, please tell us how you fell down.” My dear Jim would preface his responses with, “Well, technically . . . it wasn’t actually a fall. You see, I was just standing at the sink too long, and my knees quit supporting me.

It was more of a slip rather than a fall.” But whatever the explanation, the EMS or hospital technicians still slapped the yellow-and-black FALL RISK bracelet on his wrist, much to Jim’s dismay. Every time I heard Jim’s excuses, I had to think, Buddy, you had better ask the Holy Ghost to work with your spirit of pride. A little clarifying humility would be in order here. Last week I went to an outdoor family birthday event.

Evening shade thwarted depth perception, making the brown deck appear to extend over the yard rather than highlighting the stairs leading down into the yard.

Rounding the end of the grill, I suddenly felt myself step into thin air before experiencing the frontal impact of a hard fall forward. Immediately, four concerned adults were picking me up from off my stomach and bandaging my abrased elbow.

“It’s OK, Mom,” my son said. “I have done that too. I will get striping down soon. So sorry!” Four days later, a paramedic pushed me through the doors of an emergency room while yelling to anyone within earshot, “Seventy-seven-year-old female! Stroke symptoms!” While bustling technicians stuck monitor leads on my chest and inserted IV tubes into my arms, a nurse leaned over me and asked, “Have you fallen within the past two weeks?” (Who, me?) I heard myself murmur, “Well, technically, it wasn’t actually a fall . . . more of a depth perception issue.” To which she responded, “Honey, you still get the FALL RISK bracelet!” Whether we blame weak knees, unstriped deck steps, or the serpent in Eden, we are all “fall risks” in the sight of God. Pride sees to that. Yet in His mercy, God uses our tumbles to clarify our spiritual depth perception so we can see ourselves for who we are—and how much we really need Him.

How reassuring that He promises “grace to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5, HCSB)!

Carolyn Rathbun Sutton