Balancing

I never really liked gym class.  Probably because I was never very good at any of the sports.  Yes, I really was one of the last kids picked for any team, and with good reason.  I wouldn't have picked me, either.  However, I absolutely LOVED the balance beam!  When I was in middle school, a part of each year was spent on gymnastics.  We would have to learn how to use all of the different equipment, but would then get to choose which one we wanted to develop a routine for.  I always chose the balance beam.  For some reason, I felt more coordinated there than on the floor!  I don't remember ever falling off.  I was very sad when I moved to the high school and realized that my gymnastics time was over.

Fast forward 20-something years.  I'm still searching for that feeling I had on the balance beam.  The feeling that I could do anything, as long as I stayed on that slim piece of wood several feet in the air.  The feeling that I couldn't fall off.  That I understood the rules.  That I knew what to do.  Once I had a routine, it was set.  The same thing over and over until it was perfect.  But life seems to be so unpredictable.  It's more like Dodgeball (shudder!)  Anyone can throw a ball at you at any time, from any direction, and you can't run away.  You know you're going to get hit sometime.  You just don't know when.  Or maybe it's like the trampoline, where every time you think you're going to land on your feet, you bounce back up out of control again.

A few weeks ago, our pastor gave us a challenge to give it up to God for one month.  I'm really trying.  I find it hard, when I want to write my own routine, and include only the things I know how to do well, and then just keep repeating it.  I don't want to be at the mercy of the balls or the rubber floor.  It feels so out of control!  But I'm trying.  I have been praying more, and reading the Bible more, and really listening for that "still, small voice."  The really scary thing is that I've heard it, and it said "wait."  I laid out all of my issues, and was ready for them to be fixed, but all I heard was "wait."  It feels too much like Dodgeball.  I don't know where the balls are coming from, or when they're going to get here.  I want to run.  I want to pick up all the balls and hold on to them so I know where they are and they can't hit me.  It's like being picked last again.  Waiting while all the other kids go to their teams, wondering who will have to end up with me.

I know these feelings are not of God.  Satan is the father of lies, and he's oh, so good at them!  This need for control is the devil's own sin, and his downfall.  God is not picking all the other kids ahead of me, and He's not sneaking up on me with ball in hand.  In fact, He's standing between me and the balls, taking all of the hits, himself.  He's getting my team together.  He's writing the perfect routine for me.  His Cross gives me that solid piece of wood to stand on, and His Word has the list of acceptable moves.  "And therefore will the LORD wait, that he may be gracious unto you, and therefore will he be exalted, that he may have mercy upon you; for the LORD is a God of judgement; blessed are all they that wait for him.  And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, and when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left."  Isaiah 30:  18, 21.  So, I will wait.  I will trust.  I will have faith that my Heavenly Father will not let me fall.  He has my life in balance.  I just have to keep my feet on the cross, and follow His rule book.  Maybe it's not so hard, after all.