“My feet had almost stumbled; my steps had nearly slipped” (Psalm 73:2).

Recently I was marching along in some tall grass, unaware of how treacherous the ground was beneath my feet. Since I’m normally very surefooted, I was confident I’d make it safely through the shortcut.

It was growing dark, and we were in a hurry to get back to the motel. Earlier we’d decided to take a walk to some shops several blocks away and were now returning. Having no sidewalks to walk on had seemed adventurous when we set out. But now, with the lights from the passing cars whizzing by us just a few feet away, we realized our lark wasn’t much fun after all. Soon we would be wandering around in pitch black darkness.

Tony was doing what comes naturally to him … leading the way back to our goal. He wasn’t having any problems as he dashed through the path he’d chosen, so I hurried to keep up. But suddenly my foot struck a loose rock and I was thrown completely off balance. It happened so quickly I had no time to prepare myself or make any adjustments. Landing with my full weight on my right ankle, it took a minute to realize what had happened. I cried out, and Tony turned around, surprised to see me in a heap a few yards behind him.

It was too late to “be more careful.” It was done, and now we had to deal with the difficulties it brought. We had to get back to the motel somehow, find something to put ice in, and try to bring the swelling down. I knew I was in for a painful night, to be followed by a long drive home the next day. At times like this you wonder, “Why couldn’t this have happened at home, where I would have everything I need?”

But we know the answer. Bad things seldom happen that way. Falls (and other sudden mishaps) seem to happen in the most inconvenient place and time. You can’t prepare for them and often you can’t even avoid them. They just happen. And the sad thing is, the recovery time for getting over them is an eternity compared to the time it took to fall. They can take a high toll, too. With some accidents, we carry the scars the rest of our lives.

Does all this have a spiritual application? you may be asking. I believe it does. Scripture makes a clear distinction between a lifestyle of sin (rebellion towards God) and the occasional moral fall that can happen to the most dedicated disciple. A lifestyle of sinful living is something practiced every day. It’s deliberate and planned for. That’s the way of life we all participated in before we were born again. Titus reminds fellow Christians “At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy” (3:3-5).

Once Jesus comes into our lives and we begin to follow Him, we have a new nature within us that enables us to live differently, in a godly way. Our new nature wants to serve God. Our desire is to please Him and not sin. But because we still have our old, sin nature acquired from Adam, we still have the capability to sin. It’s not our lifestyle and we don’t plan for it, but we will on occasion fall. And when that happens, we need to know the biblical way to respond, to minimize the long-term effects of our behavior.  It’s important we know this, not just for our own sakes but also for the sake of our brothers and sisters who will on occasion take a sudden fall. We need to know how God would have us act towards them, to help them regain their spiritual health and strength.

In his first letter, the apostle John makes this clear distinction between a lifestyle of sin and our new life in Christ that is characterized by walking in the light. He says this is one of the ways we can distinguish between those who truly know and love God and those who merely claim to. “We know we have come to know him if we keep his commands” (1 John 2:3).

If you’ll allow me to use another metaphor, we can clearly see the difference in the animal kingdom. True Christians are like sheep – they occasionally fall into mud but they are quick to do whatever they can to get out of it as soon as possible. It’s not something they are happy about when it happens. They naturally seek higher ground if given a choice. A pig is different. He likes wallowing in mud and spends as much time as possible in it. When you take him out of a low muddy place and clean him up, his nature propels him back to the mud. At his first opportunity, he happily returns to it.

All people are capable of morally falling. John says if we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves. The truth is not in us (1 John 1:8). But for the true Christian, such falls are usually sudden. They aren’t planned or deliberate. We are led away by our sinful nature and take a nasty fall in a blink of an eye. And then we must deal with the consequences. Here’s where we as the body of Christ can make things far worse than they need to be.

Sin is serious and shouldn’t ever be minimized, but how helpful is it to scold someone who’s been injured by a sudden, unexpected fall? If they are a child of God, they will feel terrible about what’s happened already. What they need most from a fellow Christian is sympathy, understanding, and encouragement, not censure; they need help getting back up to high ground, not a cold shoulder. Too often, Christians are quick to separate themselves from the offending brother or sister by saying (or thinking) “You should have been more careful!” Or “You obviously are to blame for what’s happened. So I guess you’ll just have to live with it.” Or … my favorite … “What were you thinking?” That’s really a helpful question, isn’t it?

When I took my fall I know I should have been more careful, not putting myself in such a stupid place. And believe me, I learned from the experience. I won’t be quite that careless again. But what I needed at the time of my fall was a sympathetic person to help me get the tools I needed to begin the mending process.

Fortunately, I had a supportive husband who got me back to the motel and did all the things necessary to get me home as soon as possible. He walked through the experience with me and was inconvenienced by my stupidity. Yet, he didn’t complain or make me feel worse. He understood we were in the situation together, and it was in his best interest to enable me to fully recover from my fall.

I’m not sure why we find this easy to do in the physical realm but far harder in the spiritual. The New Testament writers were under no false illusion that sin, a sudden fall from our lifestyle of holiness, would not happen to Christians. Paul wrote to the Galatian church, “Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted” (6:1). He reminded them they were in this walk with Christ together. What happened to one had implications for the whole Christian body. Therefore they needed to extend gentle, loving help to restore the fallen one, knowing that in the not too distant future the tables might be reversed. They might be the next unfortunate person who steps on an unstable rock and gets thrown for a loop. If you are the one to fall and disappoint others, what kind of response would you like to receive from your spiritual brothers and sisters?

Even the most spiritual among us are not immune to Satan’s attacks. He will likely strike when we least expect it, leaving us reeling on the ground, grabbing ourselves in pain. Sin always brings with it difficult, challenging consequences that must be faced and overcome by God’s grace. God our Father is quick to forgive when we confess our sin (see 1 John 1:9), but we still have a long, often painful process to go through before we’re fully healed. We will need some kind friends to walk us through this awkward time, giving us hope and encouragement that we can regain the high calling in Christ. We will please God and by His grace and mercy walk in the light once again.

Recently I was reading some of the great promises God makes to His people about restoration following a fall. Scriptures like these lift us up and assure us we aren’t always going to be in the mud. Beyond all the pain and setback of our sin, we can look forward to having our shame wiped away and growing stronger in Him through what we’ve experienced.

“The Lord said, ‘Simon, Simon! Indeed, Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail” (Luke 22:31-32).

“A righteous man may fall seven times and rise again. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand” (Prov. 24:16; Psalm 37:24).

“Do not rejoice over me, my enemy; when I fall, I will arise. When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me” (Micah 7:8).

It’s always a terrible shock to take a sudden fall. Hopefully, it will be a rare occurrence, both in the physical realm and the moral one. But when it does happen, we can trust God to restore us to health as we put our faith in Him. “Mercy triumphs over judgment” every time. And let’s endeavor to help each other in our recovery process by avoiding attitudes of arrogance, scorn, or judgment. After all, even the most sure-footed of us can fall if we get on the right terrain. Just ask me.

For a closing song I have picked a hymn that is often sung as an invitation at the close of an evangelistic service. But it also expresses well our need to run to Him when we have suffered loss and need restoration. He is our advocate, the Righteous One. Walking with Him in light is the surest way to avoid those unfortunate and devastating falls.

“Jesus, I Come”

“Out of my bondage, sorrow and night, Jesus I come, Jesus I come;

Into Thy freedom, gladness and light, Jesus I come to Thee.

Out of my sickness into Thy health, out of my want and into Thy wealth,

Out of my sin and into Thyself, Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of my shameful failure and loss, Jesus I come, Jesus I come;

Into the glorious gain of Thy cross, Jesus I come to Thee.

Out of earth’s sorrows into Thy balm, out of life’s storms and into Thy calm,

Out of distress to jubilant psalm, Jesus I come to Thee.”

Words by William Sleeper, public domain