So I fell.
Three steps, face first, skirt flying, down the steps at church. The bruises and blood were painful enough, but the words that followed, first from the concernedly annoyed family member and then from me, the angrily hurt one, were worse. Insult to injury.
Leave me alone. Let me pick up my own shreds.
But that's not what we're called to do! No matter how bloody and messy a human's life is, you and I are called to lift them up and sometimes slap them upside the head.
Let not words, or messes, or anger, or fear keep us from pulling up a fallen brother.
No one for himself.
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