One of the common problems with my condition is that my legs occasionally decide it's their coffee break, and I take a lil' stumble. The other morning as I made my way down the spiral staircase to make my whole body some java, the legs decide they wanted to go back to sleep . . .and so D'art fall down and go boom! (which woke me up considerably, so that no coffee was needed this particular morning).
When I realized I wasn't dead, I gave God , and the angel he has assigned to me, a "thank you". I did cut several of my fingers rather badly, as well as busted up my knee and ankle, so I've been mending them this week. . . and yes, no medical insurance does in fact suck eggs!
But anyway, I am not writing to whine, but to share to the blogsphere (because I'm actually a lil' timid about sharing this next bit of info any other way) something else that came from this this event. After my shower yesterday I happened to spot some other bruises, but this time under my arm and in an area that wasn't touched by the fall. As I looked closer at the cluster of five blueish-purple marks, I realized that they were arranged with four above one, looking very much like the marks I once had when I was 8, after my dad yanked me from the path of an oncoming car.
Yes, these discolorations very much resembled a hand print, and all I could think was that my poor guardian angel must have been holding on pretty hard that morning, and I wondered how bad it might have been if he wasn't there.
Anyway, you are free to believe as you like, just as I am free to again thank and praise God for His constant presence in the life of someone as thoroughly unworthy of it as me.