Preening Wings

We’re ten days into January and I don’t feel like I’m flying.  I feel like I’m being drug behind something – like one of those tow planes that sailplanes use to get off the ground, but my body just keeps bouncing over rocks and gravel and uneven asphalt.

Maybe it’s the whirl of getting ready to leave the country and my days are spent working and lunch hours spent running errands.  Weekends full of shopping and evenings gathering & organizing.  Maybe it’s the rush of Christmas mating with the rush of leaving.

Maybe it’s still this struggle for hope.  With secret, whispered words in hope’s ear that I’m still not sure, while I beg and plead and cry out for intervention.  When I cry out that I can’t, I just can’t carry this burden, only to feel a few more ounces added.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to fly.  How I’m supposed to take wings that have become overgrown from lack of use and put them back to their intended purpose.

When the year started, I wrote in my journal the following questions:

What does it mean to fly?
What’s holding me down?

I’m still wrestling with these questions.  Well, I know one of the things holding me down is fear.  In the great words of Mumford & Sons, “I’m scared  of what’s behind, and what’s before.”  Yesterday with all it’s broken hearts and tomorrow with all of it’s unknowns and shall I say it,  {{gasp}} hopes, and the haunting knowings and the wishful thinkings …… I’m not sure how to get lift off.

This morning on my way to work as silence filled my car and weary travelers crept their way to offices and cube farms, I asked God to help me trust Him.  To help me put away this fear.  I think that is going to be one of the first things that is going to need to take place for me to get off the ground….trust.

These wings will fly again.  I have confidence in that.  Sometimes it’s a slow start when we accept these words spoken over us.  Sometimes we have to crash along the pavement before we begin to see our lives flowing naturally with them.