I was riding so fast, with the neighbor boy, Johnny, on his bike right beside me.
"Race ya," he said.
I don't remember if I was winning. I do remember when my front wheel hit the end of the pavement and the beginning of the gravel. The handlebars stopped, but I didn't.
It was my first experience having the wind knocked out of me. The next thing I knew I was in dad's arms, and he was carrying me back to the house.
"Are you gonna die?" he said.
"Yes" I sobbed.
That laugh -the one where his eyes crinkle in the corners and his head tips back just a little. "No, you ain't gonna die."
He put me down gently on the couch and patched me up.
When we get hurt, God's perspective is different than ours.