I fell.
Hard.
It happened during an early morning walk in the woods with my Labradors. We were on a familiar trail where we often see deer and turkeys and hear coyotes howling in the distance. But this peaceful morning also brought a hidden tree root.
Not paying attention, my foot caught the root, sending me into a slow-motion fall.
Ooooo—ouch!
“We must pay the most careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away” (Hebrews 2:1).
All of life’s experiences, with their bumps and bruises, are real—reminders that we don’t want to fall, especially as we grow older. We’re all at risk: a missed step, a bicyclist cutting us off, or even tripping over the cat can quickly knock us off our feet.
But beyond the physical, we all know what it’s like to fall spiritually. We’ve all given in to temptation, disobeyed, been passive, deceived someone, or spread malicious gossip. These are all signs of our human nature.
“For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out” (Romans 7:18, see also vv. 14–20).
No matter how hard I try to do the right thing, it doesn’t take long before I stumble over another root in life. But when I do, God’s grace meets me there and helps me back up (2 Corinthians 12:9).
I see myself in Peter, who denied Jesus three times at a crucial moment to save himself (John 18:15–27). I can only imagine the pain he felt afterward—but that wasn’t the end of the story. The Gospel of John closes with Jesus restoring Peter out of deep love for him and for all of us (John 21:15–19). I believe John ends his Gospel this way to make it clear: that same love and restoration is available to each of us when we fall (2 Corinthians 5:18–20).
“The LORD upholds all who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down” (Psalm 145:14).
Our students can’t hear this enough—nor can we. Like Peter, I’ve been humbled by my failures. And, like him, I’m learning that my strength doesn’t come from within myself. True strength, in our walk and in our failures, comes from God (Psalm 73:26).
Thankfully, I didn’t break a bone, but I knew I was going to be sore as I groaned getting back on my feet. Even though I was the only one in those woods, I still found myself looking around to see if anyone had seen me fall. Isn’t that how it is? We don’t want others to see when we fail.
Once again, I’m reminded: I need to pay attention in my walk.
“To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen” (Jude 24–25).
By becoming a Crossroads mentor or supporting this ministry, you help lift up those who have stumbled and guide them toward God’s grace.