spinning in freedom

The world was spinning. Faster and faster and faster. Everything was a blur. Yet everything seemed perfect in that moment. Laughter slipped through my lips, escaping in hiccups and shrieks of joy. All of the sudden, I was whipped in the other direction, jerking and twisting. The spins were slowing down, and the world was becoming more focused and clear. I tilted my head back, a huge smile spread across my face. I looked at my friends and laughed even more. The kind of laughter filled with authentic and true joy, like there was nothing else in the world that I would rather being doing in that moment. Because, to be honest, there really wasn't anything else I would rather be doing. 

My head was telling me "again, again, again!!" My lips spread into an even wider smile, my crooked teeth peaking through. I slid off the swing and immediately twisted side to side attempting to find my balance. I looked towards my friend and walked what felt like a straight line, but was probably more of a zig zag, curvy kind of line. All the while both of us filling the summer air with giggles and hiccups and joy. After regaining my balance, I looked her in the eyes, grinned my gap-toothed smile, and said "your turn."

//

When I was 8, it was so easy to jump into something new and be all in. To be excited to do the crazy, little, risky things in life. Like twisting up a swing as high up as we could reach and then unraveling it until we came back down to where we started, full of joy and giggles and huge smiles. The joy was real, those moments were authentic and I was always ready for another chance to feel a unique form of freedom as the world blurred around me. 

This isn't quite as easy now. Not only is my stomach probably not able to handle that kind of spinning as easily anymore, but my brain tells me reasons not to completely let go and be free like that. 'I need to be in control at all time,' my brain tells me, 'you can't just give up like that. It's better for you to just live life on the side and be safe rather than taking a risk like that.' 

Yet, that's kind of, well, boring. We are called to greatness, to adventure, to surrendering. Life isn't something we just live on the sidelines, we live in it, not next to it. As humans, we are called to give up that desire of control and consistency in order to have the freedom that we get with living with Christ. Most times, it probably feels like that spinning on the swing - nothing is in focus, yet in that uncertainty there is a beautiful freedom, a beautiful trust. When I was 8, I had great trust that the rope connected to the swing was holding me, but also that the branch on the tree was strong enough to hold me. In the same sense, we need to trust that God's plan for us is worth the wait and that He is protecting and guiding us through the blurred world we see. 

We know that the world around us is in focus and not blurred, but the future is sometimes unsure. That is where the blurriness and spinning are - in the waiting. But in that waiting there is freedom. Freedom in knowing that we are getting closer to where we want to be: our vocation, but ultimately Heaven. The waiting is not the fun part, but there is joy in it. While spinning on that swing, I could tell when I was getting closer to the end of my ride because everything slowed down, came into focus and my chest was filled with an indescribable joy.

I feel like I am still spinning on that swing, unsure of when I am going to completely slow down. Yet, I feel freedom in this waiting. And that is because I know there is something incredible at the end: authentic joy.  

So for right now, I'll be embracing the joy in the spinning, the blurriness and throwing my head back and laughing in the freedom of this wonderful ride of life.