Reaching up

So this weekend, Elijah busted his lip when he wondered out the front door past several distracted adults and tried to make his way down my parents front porch stairs by himself. I felt so horrendously guilty, sense I had seen him walking over to the open front door as several of us were coming in. I should have scooped him up then and there. But I was a negligent parent, and there I stood cursing myself and apologizing to my screaming child as I held him. He had blood all over his chin and mouth, and I had flash backs to stories of children having teeth knocked out after a nasty fall.

Stephanie remained calm and took him from me (Mommies are much better at consoling), my mom got a wet rag, and my dad got the ice. After assessing the damage, apparently Elijah had cut the outside of his bottom lip on the brick stairs, and then bit the inside. It's actually a blessing that he wasn't more seriously hurt. I guess its only by the grace of God that any of us makes it to adulthood alive.

Well, after the bleeding stop and a little time later, Elijah was scarfing down food and back to his old self. In fact, he still fearlessly climbs on top of anything he can reach. But perhaps he's a little wiser to the risks of falls as he climbed on a box today, stood up, then held out his little arms to me to hold them as he stepped down. It brought a smile to my face and a warm feeling that I cannot quite explain to my heart.

Then I thought... don't I do the same thing? I often walk out on my own, thinking I can manage the dangers of the world by myself. It's by God's grace that I only sustain minor damages along the way. You would think that one would learn not to venture away from Heavenly guidance after only a few cuts and bruises, and especially a bloodied lip. But alas, I continue to wonder. When will I learn to look up and stretch out my hand before every step?