Perhaps you crept there blindly, one slow inch at a time.
Or perhaps something caught you and dropped you there.
But you wake one morning to find yourself way out there on a swaying ginko leaf, not knowing quite how you got there, or how to get down.
You curl and cling and wait.
And a Hand, strong and gentle, reaches and lifts and places you back where you belong.
Back where it's safe to be small and slow and made of dust.
Back where you can loosen your grip and start inching forward again, seen and loved and tended.
“Do not be afraid, O worm Jacob, O little Israel,
for I myself will help you, declares the LORD,
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.”