First Kiss

I did it. First time ever. Or at least as long as I can remember. I kissed the pavement! Early Monday morning, walking briskly along, in exercise mode, I missed my footing, took a Goliath-sized fall, propelling me into my chin. I presently unproudly display a bloodied, burned, bruised, battered chin and wrist. Plus there is the knee hidden in the name of modesty yet painfully punished. I picked my battered body off the ground, with my walk abruptly and prematurely brought to the unfinished line, and limped home. There, I cleaned up and cleared out sundry wounds.

Surely, there are some spiritual implications here. Yep. Sometimes, we fall down. God picks us up. Scarred. Scratched. Battered by the world, bruised by sin, He washes us. He cleanses us. He restores us. He scrubs away our infirmities.

“He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along” (Psalm 40:2, NLT). “Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other” (Psalm 85:10, NIV).