Thoughts

Free Falling

Posted on August 17, 2010

What do you picture when you hear the words “free falling?” Does a Tom Petty tune start coming from your lips? That term has been tossed around a bit for us, letting us know that it was a part of this sabbatical. A free fall. I wonder if I’m finally experiencing it.

The dictionary describes it as a downward movement under the force of gravity. I picture a complete letting go and just sailing along wherever the wind, or in my case, wherever God might take me. A leaf floating along in the wind or a dandelion that’s released by the breath of a little girl are two images that come to mind when I think of free fall. There’s a lot of trust that has to happen during a free fall. You don’t know how fast you will go or where you will land. You just let go.

God recently gave me a picture of what it might feel like. Maybe it was because we just returned from Disneyland that this picture came so easily, but it definitely made sense. To those of you who haven’t been on Space Mountain, it’s basically a roller coaster in complete darkness. Here’s an excerpt from my journal…

This must be what free falling feels like. Letting go and spiraling more and more into the unknown. Not only does it sound scary, but it is scary. Maybe it’s sort of like Space Mountain at Disneyland. Your security is that seat belt around your waist, keeping you from falling out to your death. You enter the darkness, not knowing what’s coming next, sometimes you hold on for dear life, sometimes you scream, and sometimes you simply close your eyes and let the wind brush across your face.

Jesus is my seat belt and my trust. I have no idea what’s around the next turn. Sometimes it’s a drop-off that feels never ending. I hold on for dear life and scream. Sometimes it’s a slow motion move through a psychedelic tunnel of blinding lights that messes with my head. And sometimes it’s just a simple turn that causes me to close my eyes and relish it. God knows I’ve had all I can handle and is being gentle on me for the moment.

At the end of that wild ride, I get off and smile. It sure was scary, but it was worth it. I’m hoping I can say the same after this wild sabbatical ride.