Many situations of my life have been spent on the floor.  I'm not sure how I've somehow linked it all together but the theme somehow surfaced in my mind after recalling the events of this week.  There are many distinct life changing moments that I can think of where I've ended up with my entire being surrendered on the floor.  There was no escaping.  I was there in that moment and feeling every single bit of it. 

The memories are both good and bad.  I smile when I think of Connie and I on our stressed out overwhelmed days at Vanguard laying on the floor as fellow classmates walked around us.  I didn't feel crazy in those moments.  It was our way of regaining some control in our chaotic lives.  And for a moment it was just me and my bestie laying on the floor laughing and being as carefree as a child. 

Other moments however also lead to me being on the floor.  One in particular that I can think of is the ending of my marriage.  After facing a blow to my face I woke up aching and alone on the floor.  Nobody around me.  Instantly tears streamed down my face.  It was in that moment I knew it was over. 

I can't seem to put together the significance of being on the floor.  All I know is that I've spent a lot of my time soul searching down on my face before God.  With a tear stained carpet beneath me I cried out to God for more.  Maybe God likes to bring me back to those moments of just me and Him. 

This past week I ended up on the floor again.  Laying beside somebody who I have grown to love and care deeply about.  It was in those moments, scared and confused and feeling as though I was unable to offer nothing more than my very presence I was once again faced with the realization that I was down on my face once again, except this time it was for somebody else.  Overwhelmed I questioned how far I would go for somebody I loved and with all of me laying there I knew that I was giving everything that I had. The only thing that I was left scared to question whether the same would be done for me.