Soar

The mess in my head was a jumbled nest of worry and fear about our future.  I’ve let go of so many expectations over the years…but still, I sometimes grasp for the provisions we all seek.  I’m blinded by grief and stress.  I’m crumpled up with smallness.  I forget that we’ve always been okay…and we always will be...more than okay.

The only prayer I could squeeze out through the tears was
“Lord?  God?
I surrender.”
Then my mind was filled with the image of a soaring eagle.  White sunbeams shone through the wing tips as the bright blue of the sky smacked against the ruddy rocks of canyon beneath.

   

This kind of surrender isn’t unto a prison guard or under a heavy weight.  This is surrender to the gentle nudge that frees me from the nest and sends me toppling over the edge of a cliff…because that is where I find my wings. Though I’m still terrified, I’m reminded that I can soar.  The wind dries my tears and forces me to breathe.  I’m reminded that I can trust my wings and I can trust the air that holds them up.  Each time I soar, there is more trust.  Less fear.

I return to my nest…eventually…every time.  That’s the funny thing about this life.  The things that give me the greatest joy are sometimes the hardest things to maintain.  I often just don’t realize that trying-so-hard is the real heavy weight, it is the grasping that is true cage.  The surrender is the real freedom.  The paradox is the divine.  Faith turns what I think I know upside down; the steps often feel like they lead me to the edge of a cliff.  Because that is where I find my wings.  Sometimes the only answer we need is a new perspective.