Fear of Falling

Sometimes as you’re moving along in life, you have an epiphany. A moment when you see things with such clarity that you wonder why you never had this particular insight before. And everything around you appears in a totally different light. This has happened to me on many occasions, but most recently in the area of faith.

Hop to it

I’ve always believed in stepping out in faith, but today I realized how small my giant leaps of faith are to someone who’s looking down from above. I go into them trembling, terrified of the outcome, thinking I have to do it all alone. I forget to look up and around to see all the help that’s available to cross the chasm I see before me.

Maybe instead of worrying about falling, I could use that energy to summon help. Like the ants in the previous post, I may be so occupied with what I’m doing, I miss the opportunities for support that are right beside me or in front of me.

If I look, I might also see that a jump is unnecessary. Someone before me built a bridge that I can use to cross. So there’s an easier way to do things. Before you leap, look around to find all available resources. But then if no one has done what you’re about to do, take that leap. But be sure to leave the trail well marked for those who will follow you.

Endless Possibilities

Today I watched as ants crawled across the ground and into a gully that must look overwhelming to them and labored to the other side. Yet all it would take is a tiny bit of help from me, and they could cross that span in seconds with no effort. But they have no idea I’m even there or what I’m capable of or that I’m willing to help.

Even the ants who are aware I’m there don’t comprehend the vastness and power of me. They crawl over parts of me or climb across the bridge I make of my hand, but do they ever see all of me? And if they did, would they know who or what I am? Or would they just see me as another obstacle in their path?

Then I wonder if people aren’t doing the same thing as ants as they scurry around oblivious to a major source of assistance, to possibilities, to wondrous miracles that could take place in their lives if only they knew the source of help sitting beside them is so huge it’s unfathomable.

And even those who are aware of the source…can they ever comprehend the vastness, the power, the totality of it?

I’m wondering if atheists are the head-to-the-ground worker ants who see nothing but what’s in front of their noses, and agnostics notice the changes in their environment, but aren’t sure what to attribute it to. And each of the various religions are like ants scrambling across various body parts, reporting the world as they see it. But like the blind men and the elephant, they’re missing the whole picture.

Can anyone step back and see the whole? Or are we, like the ants, incapable of viewing, comprehending, grasping the full reality, the wondrous possibilities?

Hope in the Face of Darkness

Has life slapped you in the face? Are you struggling to survive an emotional or financial hit? Are you facing major roadblocks on your life journey?

If everything looks bleak and you aren’t sure you’ll ever recover, here’s a message of hope  from the wonderful inspirational speaker Corrie ten Boom, who survived living in a concentration camp and watching her sister die. The tragedies of my life pale when compared to hers, but as I’m going through them, my own trials loom large. If I let them, they can overwhelm me and block out everything but the pain. This wise lady helped me look at the larger picture.

She compared life to a tapestry. We see the underside with its tangle of threads and knots, and have no idea why so many threads are dangling or why our lives have so many dark patches, but God, the master weaver, looking down from above sees the beautiful picture that is our lives. Each thread–dark or light–has its perfect place in the finished work of art.

So when dark times come, I try to remember that God sees what I cannot, and I know on the other side lies a work of great beauty.

Life Is But a Weaving
by Corrie ten Boom

My life is but a weaving between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors; He works so steadily.
Oft times He weaves in sorrow, and I in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper, and me the underside.
Not till the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful in the weavers skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.