A DANGEROUS KINDA GUY

 4493

A DANGEROUS KINDA GUY

 

I served as a counselor in a local ministry called House of Hope, a residential ministry to women newly released from prison, for about three years.

 

One day a new House Mother reported for duty, and I volunteered to take her duffle bag to her second floor bedroom. However, in doing so, I made a crucial mistake. I threw the bag over my RIGHT shoulder, and began climbing the first flight of stairs; (leaving me without a free hand to hold onto the banister). Step 1, Step 2, Step 3, Step 4.

 

Now, I reached the landing, turned and began to mount the longer flight of stairs. Step 5, Step 6, Step 7, Step 8... And now... I suddenly lost my balance, and dropped the duffle bag; in a futile attempt to grab the banister to arrest my all but certain fall.

 

And now, I felt myself falling backwards. Like a vehicle in reverse. Step 7, Step 6, Step 5. Shoulders, arms, legs, and rumpus bouncing down the unforgiving wooden stairs.

 

My momentum was, by this time, so dynamic that, when I hit the landing, I navigated the 90 degree angle with ease, and continued my short, but unforgettable journey down the staircase.

 

Step 4, Step 3, Step 2, Step 1. And now, I bounced onto the hard wooden floor from whence I came.

 

As I lay there attempting to regain my focus, and ascertain the damage to my body, I heard footsteps. Jana, the House Administrator, ran up to me, and screamed,

 

"Don't get up! Don't get up!"

 

(But, I did).

 

As far as I could tell, no broken bones, and, at least for the moment, no significant pain. (The bruises and somewhat less than moderate pain would become apparent in the next few days). I realized how blessed I was to have avoided paralysis, or death.

 

The new House Mother told me later that she had seen the whole grizzly thing. She said it was the most violent fall she had ever witnessed in her entire life.

 

I learned a very difficult, I mean HARD lesson that day.

 

Throughout my life, I have been prone to accidents, most, sadly, of my own making. (However, as I reflect on it now, at least I have rarely made the same stupid mistake more than once. It seems I find new, more innovative, and more dangerous ways to get myself in trouble)!

 

Somehow, I have reached the grand old age of the lucky double digits (77). God has been gracious... (in spite of my knack for falling down stairs, sailing head first off my bike, running through a glass door, falling off a ladder, finding myself in the middle of a crime scene, nearly being wiped out by a ten ton dragline bucket, flipping my car, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.

 

by Bill McDonald, PhD