For one thing, when you're already there, there's not so far to fall.
For another thing, my body's used to finding rest in field-expedient situations, using what's there for comfort. A bandolier makes a decent pillow, did you know?
And there's a lot to be learned when you have nowhere to look but up.
Like, looking at dogs. We usually look down at them, but when you look up at their concerned, loving faces, you see not only a seriousness that wasn't there before, but a wrinkly-jawed wisdom.
Sylvia is kind of like Gandalf.
And a two-liter bottle of soda looks plenty tall, and plenty full. A symbol of blessing and plenty.
And when up is the only direction, you realize that God isn't found in the whipped-up mountaintop Halleluiah! moments.
Those moments are fine, but it's more our enthusiasm than the Almighty.
God is present, and has to be most present when our eye-line is limited to a few inches. That's when we know, as we struggle and fail to rise, that we need to reach out. Need to reach up.
In the silent moments of prostration, when you're face to face with the dust-bunnies under the couch (theoretical, here; not Barbara's couch), you know that you're not, and never were, anything like God's equal. Sometimes I think we get sneaky-thoughts that we are, you know, that New-Age vibe. But not from the floor.
When you can't get to your feet, faith, like a loyal service dog, becomes your giant.
Sorry it's a short post. Too ill, and today to weak to say more. I hope this was enough.
Nothing else would do for a musical theme but Garth Brooks' Friends In Low Places.
We're linked with Messy Marriage's From Messes To Messages - please visit for great marruage resources!
Still hoping to get the new and improved version of Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart up and running in the near future. Just haven't had the energy to do it yet...but if you would like to read it, please say so in your comment and I'd be glad to send you a PDF (which should fit your Kindle).
I have another blog, "Starting The Day With Grace". The focus is a grace quote from someone you might not expect (like, say Mick Jagger) and a short commentary. I hope you'll join me.
Marley update... been moved to a sanctuary, and Bay County will revise their 'dangerous dog' codes.
WE MADE A DIFFERENCE!
And marley has a Facebook page! Please drop by to see how happy he is today.
If you can, please do leave a comment. I am trying to answer all, and I am failing, but please know this - I read and treasure each one.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.
Andrew, this post is beautiful. Looking up from the floor offers a humbling perspective. And I think you're right...we do let thoughts that we might be at least close to equals to God.
ReplyDeleteI really liked this: "When you can't get to your feet, faith, like a loyal service dog, becomes your giant."
It seems like when we're in the humblest of situations we discover just how deep our faith really is.
I'm continuing to pray for you, friend.
Jeanne, thank you so much! Your comment means a lot to me, because this was a post I really had to write on the fly, in the moments I could sit up. There was very little chance to edit, so I guess God was doing His bit.
DeleteIndeed, the more life humbles us, the deeper the faith-roots can go, if we water them with trust.
Thank you so much for the prayers!
That's a great view. And even when I see a dust bunny deep under the bed, I also see evidence of how well I sweep up to that point!
ReplyDeleteI'm not a dog owner, but they are a great comfort. It's amazing how they recognize what a human needs and try to meet that need.
Red, yeah, those dust-bunnies! Before I married Barbara, I gave them names.
DeleteWithout the dogs, I'd be in deep trouble...actually dead, because they can do 'canine CPR', and get my heart beating again. And they have done this several times. I'm NEVER more than a few feet from them.
Thanks so much for being here!
I used to crawl under my bed when I was upset as a child. There was just something so comforting to me in that cramped and low space--where no prying eyes could see. So I can kind of see why the floor has provided a bit of comfort for you, Andrew. But at the same time, I wish that you could walk around on that floor and maybe even dance with Barbara here and there. Maybe those are times best left to daydreams. I'm continuing to pray for you daily, my friend, and hoping you sense God's comfort through the pain. In a sense, I'm hitting the floor for you daily, so maybe you can imagine me and Jesus laying down there by your side--counting ceiling tiles and telling jokes about the "priest and the rabbi!" ha! Love ya, my brother!
ReplyDeleteBeth, please pardon my delay in replying...and thank you for sharing the comfort you drew from the floor as a child!
DeleteI do feel God's presence when I'm at my 'lowest' (hahaha!), and I love the image of Jesus telling jokes! Thank you for that, and most especially for your prayers.
Love back, from all of us!
My moments on the floor are the life-changing moments. They're hard and you often wish you weren't in the moment, but later ... when you see
ReplyDeleteand feel your relationship with the Lord strengthened, you wouldn't trade it for anything.
Shelli, you described this beautifully, the way you can look back and see how the Lord has worked in your life through the hard places, and drawn you closer...just perfect!
DeleteYour posts always make me look up and appreciate what else I can do. But I'll never be as wise as you are. You're both a wise man and a wise guy. ;-)
ReplyDeleteGosh, Jan, thank you so much! And please pardon the tardiness of my reply.
DeleteYou hope this was enough?? Oh, Andrew... even in your shortest blog posts, we can see that God has provided you with the words that are needed for the moment. Even when you are down there with the dust bunnies, you're still way up high with Jesus! Continuous prayers for you, Barbara, and those wisdom-filled dogs as always!
ReplyDeleteDiana, I'm so grateful for this lovely comment, you really made my day (and please pardon the lateness of my reply).
DeleteAnd we all thank you so much for the prayers. They're really needed.
Your words here are more than enough Andrew. Sometimes a change in perspective is what we need the most. It can make a world of difference. Thank you for sharing your story!
ReplyDeleteLaura, thanks so much for being here....and you're so right, perspective shift can change everything.
DeleteIllness has taught me so much about what's precious in life. It's been hard and painful (and it's scary) but I would not trade this learning to get my health back.