Down on All Fours

It was a beautiful, sunny February day. A light blanket of snow had fallen overnight, promising a great day.

My heart rejoiced in the opportunity to speak in Adrian, Michigan, and the few hours’ drive from Windsor, Ontario flew by.

En route, I took the chance to visit my special friend in Kalamazoo. Yes, it was out of the way, but a welcome time, as being together was never often enough.

We laughed, cried, reminisced, and ate black licorice.

After a short night’s rest, I packed the car and headed for my intended destination: Adrian, a university town.

Aware of the fact that I had lingered too long at my friend’s home, I pressed down on the accelerator and headed east to US 223.

My history of speaking at Christian Women’s Clubs spanned two decades, and I always enjoyed the opportunity to share my heart with women of all ages.

Our Canadian groups met at 1:00 p.m. to allow time for moms to get their children back to school after lunch. Then they could relax for the next couple of hours and embrace the inspiration.

A glance at my itinerary showed that, alas, 1:00 p.m. was not the start time for this US monthly event, but noon.

My heart skipped a beat. An hour earlier than I’d thought. Could I possibly make it on time? The sound of my husband’s voice rang in my subconscious: “If you get caught speeding in the United States without funds to pay the fine, you might get taken straight to the courthouse.”

Just before 12:00, the sign to the town of Adrian appeared, and I rejoiced when I also saw the sign to the University, where I would be speaking in Mackenzie Hall. I turned the corner and the huge admin building came into view. After parking the car, I yanked off my winter boots and slid into my very high heels, hoping to save precious minutes.

As I ran up the snow-covered walkway, I tripped. All my notes and several church bulletins flew out of my hands and were strewn across the path.

Oh dear, Lord, help!

I gathered the scattered papers and grasped the handle of the massive door.

Hope welled up as a smiling lady greeted me inside, presumably the chairman of the event. “Can you please show me where Mackenzie Hall is?”

“Oh yes, just come around the corner.”

How fortunate that the meeting hall was just steps away.

To my dismay, around the corner brought me into a room with a gigantic map of the campus.

The kind lady began to give me directions. I didn’t hear a word. I wouldn’t be on time, and it was unlikely I could find the right place.

I jumped back in the car and headed for any road I could find.

Finally, I stopped and threw open the door, and once again began my marathon. Out of breath, I yelled at a lady coming along the path. “Is this the way to Mackenzie Hall?”

“Yes, just go straight ahead and up the stairs to the inside.”

As I continued running, the muscles in my chest tightened, and I was gripped by the strange feeling that eyes were on me. A glance up to the left revealed a line of women watching for their speaker of the day. Oh Lord, can it get any more embarrassing?

Another lady greeted me at the door. She was not smiling.

I followed her into the meeting room and one hundred and fifty women fixed their eyes on their late speaker. I smiled and nodded. “Hello!” No response. What could I expect? I was late—a no-no in the speaking world.

I walked behind the chairman and proceeded up the three steps to the head table. The sun and glistening snow still blinding me, my foot caught on the top step, and I went down on all fours. The momentum from the fall caused my grey hat, sporting a beautiful burgundy feather, to topple forward and land neatly on my nose, covering my eyes.

The humbling process was complete as I pulled myself up from my lowly position to sit centre stage at the head table.

This was not the first time that I’d been down on the floor praying desperately, “God please get me out of this depression, and I’ll do anything You want me to do.”

As embarrassing and humbling as the posture might be, it does help us to remember who God is and who we are before Him. Thankfully, when we are on all fours before Him, He does not laugh or become impatient. He only holds out His hands and, in His grace and mercy, gently sets us back on our feet again.