Get Back Up

Last night I came home from work and our son, Seth (age 5) was ready to talk.  His Kindergarten teacher had shared about the all-school roller skating party that night.  He was so excited. 

"Daddy, can I go?  Mommy said she would have to talk to you.  What did you say?"  He asked. 

His sister did not want to go, so it became as he called it a "boys night." 

As we drove to the skating rink, he wondered which of his new found friends might attend.  He named all the kids in his class he could remember and described in great detail those whose names he did not know.  I love how people-oriented he is (He does not get that extroversion from me). 

"Hi!" he said with great enthusiasm to each of his classmates as we arrived.

We laced up his skates and he was off.  Or, I guess I should say, down.  He fell and fell and fell and no sooner would he get up that he fell again.  I actually began to hurt for the poor little guy.  I was even tempted to rush to his aid, but there is only one way to learn to skate and he was doing it:  Every time he fell, he got back up. 

He was determined to get to the middle of the rink where beginners were allowed to practice because two of his classmates had made it there.  He skated and fell and got back up again all the way across the rink.  Finally, he made it to his classmates only to fall again. Which is when the boy and girl in his class leaned down, said something to him and offered a hand.  Of course, they did not do that again because then they fell down, too.  In fact, they fell down and got back up again almost as much as Seth.

I wrote in my prayer journal last night that while I was watching Seth and his friends fall and get back up over and over again, it became an unexpected, meaningful moment with God for me.  I found myself saying, "Wow, Father!  Look how Seth keeps getting back up! I was never like that. Lord, you know I would have given up about 20 falls ago.  Thank you that Seth is not like me." 

And then, quietly, in that still small voice that was louder than all the roller skating party noise and music, God's Spirit whispered to my spirit, "May be the son can teach the Dad something tonight."  The Father always knows right where to get us, doesn't he?  I began to tear up, but I shut that down...no need to embarrass myself or my boy.  But as I kept watching him fall and get up, it was like the Father was saying to me, "It doesn't matter how many times you fall or you get knocked down as long as you get back up."  I wish I could explain to you what those words mean to me.  Certainly, He is speaking to something so close to my heart and so deep in my spirit that I won't even attempt to explain it, but I have a feeling a few of you may know exactly what I am talking about.  You know what I mean not because you know what this all means to me, but because it means something to you, too.  "It doesn't matter how many times you fall or you get knocked down as long as you get back up."

When we got back to the house, Anna asked, "Did Seth fall any?"  I gave her the answer the Father gave me, "Anna, it doesn't matter how many times he fell.  What matters is how many times he got back up! And I am so proud of Seth for that!"

I certainly think this applies to this 911 anniversary today.  There will always be somebody or something that will blow up buildings and destroy lives.  Jesus said that such comes straight from hell itself (see John 10).  Certainly we will all get knocked down, there is no question about that...But what does remain in question is whetaher or not, in the name of Christ, we will get back up.  That is why Jesus was knocked down by the cross so he could show us that through God's love and power we can even climb back up out of the grave.  Praise be to God!

"Father, we pray for all those directly impacted by the loss of a loved one on 911.  By your love and power will you use your Church to help people get back up. Amen."