Daddy's little helper on the roof? Well, yeah. Ever since I was seven years old, I didn't have any brothers around the house. I was It. I helped Daddy build the fence, mow the yard, shock wire the fence for our dog, and pour concrete — including putting my hand and feet imprints, plus a signature.

That Day, it was building a second barn on our property. We were putting the finishing touches on, the white trimming on the top of the roof.

14 feet up.

Standing on the top step. I was used to this kind of thing.

My dad was on one ladder and I was on the other. I couldn't quite figure out how to nail my side of the trimming.

I steadied myself on the step as I held onto the beam holding up the tall structure, my dad patiently coming over to help me.

Neither one of us knew that the ladder we had borrowed disguised a broken foot. My dad came climbing up the other side to give me a hand.

At that moment, we both heard a loud crack, like the crack of tree limb before it falls. Only it wasn't a tree limb falling this time.

Like someone trying to watch the light of an airborne flashlight, my vision went from the red ladder to blue sky. Hard beam. Red ladder. Blue sky. Hard beam. Hard dirt.

Opening my eyes, it was like Christmas: red, green. That's all that I could see.

Then, there was my dad hovering over me. "Don't get up," he cautioned.

Were those tears in his eyes?

My vision cleared.

Like the wind picking up a flower petal to float on its back, my dad picked me up in his arms, the safest place on earth.

My little sister came running outside. No pity or fear showed in her eyes. Instead, she fluttered and bobbled around like a hummingbird next to a flower.

"Daddy, I didn't know you were that strong. I thought you couldn’t pick up Katelyn. She's too heavy."

I glared down at her. "Thanks."

“If you can pick up her, you can pick up me!"

She pouted.

Daddy swooped us both into his bronze arms.

Every time I think of this memory, I remember the way my dad picked me up. It was almost worth it to fall 10 more times to feel his strength. I think of the way God hides me under the shadow of His wing.

Psalm 91:1 "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty."

The safest place I can be is in His arms.

Though He does not always protect me from all harm (as He is quite capable of doing), like my daddy, He is there to show me that He is strong enough to pick me up. The fall comes before the refuge.