Things Fall Apart

My class read a book in high school called Things Fall Apart.  I don’t remember much about the book, except that I think it took place in Africa and was written by Chinua Achebe.  I’m beginning to wonder if I’m being called to write the sequel:  Things Fall Apart: An Autobiography.

Now that I think about it, though, Achebe’s brilliant title could represent any of our stories.  For Shannon and me, the chapter that coincides with this week is pretty intricate.  In July I learned my body is not invincible (2 Corinthians 4:16).  Our water heater broke a couple of days after the cancer news.  Six days ago, the lawn mower jumped on the bandwagon (I learned an important lesson during the process.  Always mow the front yard first).  Just as I was finishing the back (you know, the area that no one sees), the belt broke and the mower exhaled lots of white smoke.

Things got worse on Tuesday.  Driving on the interstate entrance ramp, the ding that accompanies the red “Check Engine” light interrupted my thoughts.  All of the sudden, my car would not accelerate past 10 mph, and I was stuck.  Rolling my eyes and resting my head back I sighed, “What else is new?”  I’m beginning to hear the message behind the madness with new ears: Things fall apart.  Eve ry d a y.  It’s never been clearer to me.

As for the sequel, I’ve no doubt life will continue to provide writing material.