Not the movie. The real vertigo that steps into your life with the tiniest granule on the smallest fiber in your inner ear and lays you low. It began with the little wobble when I sat up in bed in the morning. Whoa. That was weird. Then all was well and I went on with life. Innocently making plans and promises as if I had the power to control my life. Then came the listing walk just a little off kilter. Bumping my shoulder as I passed through a doorway. And finally the spinning room and sea sick nausea every time moved my head or my eyes or looked at the light, any light. So, there I laid. Throw up bowl by my side, curtains closed while the world moved on without me. I wasn’t sick. I just couldn’t move, or read or listen to anyone talk. I was laid low. And I laughed at my former self who made plans who thought she had the power to control her life. I had nothing. Other people stepped up and did my jobs, fulfilled my promises and me? I laid there and hugged my trash can after I had heaved my guts into it. I couldn’t even clean it out. I had to wait for someone to come help me. I had tried to get up, that’s how I ended up holding the trash can. People fast sometimes to focus on God and not be distracted. You can believe that He had my full attention. I didn’t hear him speak but I learned something. Without Him I can do nothing. In Him I live and breathe and have my being. And the Bible verse that says not to say that tomorrow I’ll go here or there for we don’t know what tomorrow holds. That is truth. Three days later, I am well. Able to walk again. I can turn my head without the room moving violently in circles. And I am hopeful that I can remember, in my wellness, at whose pleasure I live. And how fragile life is. How precious life is. And how grateful I am to be given this day to live for Him.