I’m writing this at the Centre, a chaplaincy and hang out space at my local university, sitting in their ‘reflection’ room.
And I’m pondering, ‘where is my centre right now?’
I feel like I’ve been thrown off-kilter by all the fog and pain, anxiety and fatigue, and I just need to stop, pull myself back into centre, before I can set off again.
When I stop spinning, the centrifugal force pulling me outward, pulling me into this and that and a million (well 358) different directions eases, and I can once again feel the gravity of God pulling me back down in the centre.
Here is a place I can rest and simply be. No ‘but I need to do…’, just being. Being held, being loved.
I know that when I am secure in my centre, settled, grounded, that I can take deliberate steps out to do what needs doing, without the spin of life pulling me off course, turning me around. When one foot is secure in its footing, grounded on something solid that I know will not move, I can have confidence to lift the other, to risk stepping out onto unstable or unpredictable ground, because I can always step back to my secure Rock.
I wanted to write about something different today, to wrangle a post I started last week into shape, but I don’t have the energy, I’m too spent trying to work against the spin of my life. I haven’t made space to just stop and let the gravity of God take me back in, to let myself stop fighting and let myself fall back into God’s arms.
God has gravity, but God is not a blackhole. Blackholes don’t let anything back out, but God gives us free will. We can choose to step out of God’s gravity fell and let our lives orbit other things. Today I feel like the things of life have me spinning and I need the gravity of God to help me stop. Today I feel like descending in freefall and burning off all the chaff in re-entry is the best idea I’ve heard in weeks.
And so I surrender to the pull of God’s gravity.
And I let go.