Things were going quite well, I must say, on the indoor project lined up for the day. Needed to tear out a room of carpet—a relatively small bedroom—and replace it with some vinyl plank flooring. Fortunately the carpet wasn’t glued down, so cutting it into strips, rolling it up, same with the padding, wasn’t bad at all. Came up easily. So I was feeling pretty good about my progress.
But I was also in a bit of a hurry. I had to get the project done in this one day. Carpet out, new floor down, clean up the mess, bedroom put back together, all before 8:00 p.m. Of course, with the carpet and padding rolled up, it had to get out of the room. There was nowhere else in the house it was going to go, even temporarily. I needed to get it to the garage to then transport it to a dumpster.
I didn’t mention that this day was a Saturday…in January…in Illinois. The temperature hovered just below freezing, and earlier in the morning, our area was blessed with some freezing rain. Even while I worked away inside, a bit of icy mist filled the air outside.
Nevertheless, the carpet had to go. I could handle it. I’ve lived in the wintry North for 57 of my 61 years, trudged through all kinds of snowdrifts, slid my way across icy sidewalks and driveways and parking lots. It was just a few feet from the back door to the garage—and it’s not like we got an ice storm or anything. I’ve dealt with far, far worse and proved my mettle.
Why, I can recall maneuvering our car on the icy, hilly roads of Greenville, South Carolina in the middle of an ice storm. Cars slid off the road to the right, to the left. Unskilled southerners needed the help of the cars in front of them to stop. It was an insurance company’s nightmare! Traffic was stopped and the road ahead absolutely clogged—there was no way to reach our home that way. But I knew an alternate back way and headed for it. As soon as I turned on the road—and there was no going back!—I was sure I’d made a terrible mistake. The road descended in front of me; at the bottom of the hill it curved to the left. My fretting bride and I watched with great anxiety as a couple cars in front of us tried to take the curve…and found the embankment on one side or the ditch on the other.
I put the car in L1 and inched down the hill, only slightly pumping the brake to keep from getting above 5 mph. Staying in the middle of the road, on the crown, and turning ever so slowly at just the right place, we made the turn. The rest of the mile home improved marginally—no more sharp curves or steep hills—and we couldn’t have gone any slower. But we made it! What skillful driving by this transplanted Yank!
So, from the back door to the garage? No problem. I loaded up my arms with carpet scraps and headed out, not even paying much attention to the ground beneath my feet. There are only two steps between the porch and the driveway. Stepping down to the first of those two was the only step necessary. I should have paid attention to the ground beneath my feet! The porch, the steps, the driveway were coated in a thin layer of ice.
The fiasco could’ve been so much worse. It could’ve landed me in the ER and left the flooring project hanging in limbo. I felt my bare arm hit the concrete step (yes, I was wearing a tee shirt) and then the sharp sting. The carpet unraveled before me, and I sheepishly worked my way upright. Looking in the kitchen window, I realized no one saw this clumsiness of mine. Whew! But looking at my arm told me they’d find out sooner or later. No broken bones, but a really nasty 8-inch bloody scrape.
Poking back into the doorway, I pleaded with my wife for a few paper towels. “What happened!?!” she naturally wondered with concern. “I fell,” was my sort of snarly reply. “Are you OK?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” And back out into the skating rink I ventured. Gingerly stepping along…finding the ice-melt-not-really-salt stuff and abundantly spreading it everywhere. The remaining trips back and forth were without incident. And the scabs have about healed. Will take awhile for the scars to disappear, though.
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Interestingly, after talking about the repeated failures of God’s people as recorded in the the Old Testament, and the very unpleasant consequences for that failure, Paul the Apostle warns the church at Corinth,
Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.
1 Corinthians 10:12
I think we all realize Paul was talking about much more than being careful when you go out on icy steps, thinking you can handle it, that you won’t fall! But then, he wasn’t not talking about it, either. Pride, inordinate self-confidence, carelessness, self-superiority, feeling invincible in any setting, under any circumstance sets one up for a sudden, before-you-know-it, humbling tumble. And pain. Maybe some scars.
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Bryan,
That was really good! You remind me of a northern Max Lucado. 😀
Not sure how Max would feel about that, but thanks!
Yeah. I had the same experience. I hit the same way (right arm) at the same day and just about the same time. One of us should have called the other to save at least one fall.
I’m certainly glad you did not have worse results, as you said, ” … could have been a trip to the ER.” Anyway, my fall was on the backdoor cement steps and in less than one second landed on my right elbow and hip then bouncing down the four steps hitting my head on each one. Like you, I got up, brushed myself off,checked to make sure I was still all there, (no comment) sprinkled ice melt on all surfaces and closed the barn door after the horse had left. I seemed to be all right except for a few bumps and bruises. PTL But for a few days after I had some mild headaches and when I moved my head sharply to one side I experienced pain above my eyes. Well, that was last week and scrapes and bruises have all but gone away and most importantly so have the head aches. God is good in spite of my carelessness.
Jim
So glad you didn’t end up in the ER either, Jim!!