Everywhere I look I see in bold caps CALL DON’T FALL. The remainder of the message is modified depending on the location of the sign. On the bulletin board across from my bed, it encourages me to call for help to go to the bathroom. In the bathroom, it encourages me to call for help to get off the commode.
I’m in a rehabilitation hospital wearing a bright yellow wristband that says FALL RISK. They’re a week too late. I have repeatedly answered the question, “What happened to you?!” with “I stepped off a high curb and broke my ankles.” (Yes, plural.)
While it’s true a few adventurers injure themselves trying to jump a motorcycle over twelve cars and through a flaming hoop, I got hurt doing something ordinary. Walking and talking at the same time. I have been most diligent to prevent falling down our huge staircase at school. I always cling to the handrail with a firm grip. I prevented the injury I anticipated, but failed to anticipate the damage of an eight inch fall.
Experiencing a physical fall and its consequences makes me consider spiritual falls and their consequences. I would no more think I’m headed for a spiritual fall than I thought I was heading for a physical fall, but Paul warns in 1 Corinthians 10:12, “If you think you are standing strong, be careful not to fall.” (NLT)
The truth is, none of us is sin proof. We are all fall risks.
Which makes me really like the CALL DON’T FALL signs. They go on to promise, “Your safety is our priority and we have time to help you.” I am blessed with a network of Christian sisters and brothers at church, at work, in my critique groups, and on Facebook. They live Galatians 6:2, “Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.” It’s like they’re all wearing tee shirts that read, “I have time to help you.”
As believers, let’s make it our priority to look out for each other, physically and spiritually.
UPDATE: I have had my second ankle surgery and will soon be home, When I am back on my feet, I'll return to rehab and punctuate those signs.