Free to Fall

Have you ever fallen?  I mean really fallen.  Not tripped or stumbled, but flat out fallen down?  I have a few times actually.  Perhaps I am a little clumsy.  Most of my falls have been down stairs and usually as a result of being in too much of a hurry.  I fell this past week actually.  I slipped on a wet bathroom floor and went down. 

Have you ever fallen....on purpose?  This one is a little more tricky to answer.  Well, I have done that too.  Twice a year, I subject myself to the trust fall.  My husband and I are part of a ministry that does weekend retreats for parents and teens and husbands and wives.  One small but significant activity of the weekend is a trust fall.  If you have never done one, it can be a little intimidating.  At least for me. 

Every time I approach the trust fall tower, I am terrified.  Interestingly enough, it isn't the lack of trust in the people catching me, it is the falling that I struggle with.  I have an issue in my life that God keeps bringing me back to.  Do you have one of those?  Something in your life that you keep giving to God and then find yourself picking right back up?  This issue always comes to the light during the trust fall for me. 

A couple weeks ago, I found myself approaching the platform  Heart beating fast as I climbed the steps.  I was staring my issue in the face trying desperately to let go of it.  This thing I hold onto so tightly has become my identity and without it, I am not sure who I am.  This trust fall experience was different for me in a very significant way.  The person leading the activity was a close friend of ours.  He prayed with me and helped me line up for the fall.  Unlike any other time I have fallen, he kept his hand on my back until I was ready. 

I realized that God is doing the same thing with me.  He is with me as I stand on the precipice looking my fears in the face.  He is in my prayers.  He hears my heart beating fast.  He knows my fear.  He has His hand on my back.  He prepares me for the fall.  He catches me when I finally let go.  And every time I climb up the steps he is waiting for me at the top.  Ready and willing to do it all again.  As many times as I need to.  Not because He has to, but because He loves me and I need Him there.  Free to fall.  Free to live.  Free to be free. 

Broken Hearts and Banana Cream Pie

Recently in our family, someone experienced a sadness that pulled at my heart in a significant way.  As we searched for words of wisdom to help ease the pain of a broken heart, we asked what would make it better.  The answer was simple and surprising to me.  Nana's banana cream pie. 

For years, my kids have been spending time at their grandparent's house.  My mother in law always cooks with and for the boys.  She is very intentional about this time with her grandsons.  One of their favorites is homemade banana cream pie.  Who knew that such a seemingly insignificant act would have such an impact on my children. 

Nana's banana cream pie is nothing special in terms of its basic recipe.  Graham crackers, pudding, bananas and whip cream.  But the love that it is made with, the celebration with which it is served and the thoughtfulness of the tradition is what really makes it special.  The pie is happiness and love.  It represents comfort and the feeling that everything is "okay". 

Sometimes, it is the little things that make the biggest difference.  When I am finding myself caught up in delivering the wow factor for my kids or in keeping up with the expectations of the world, I will try to remember Nana's banana cream pie.  I will try to build into the lives of my children and family in the small everyday tasks and plans.  It is these things that make a life and create a sense of togetherness that big vacations and lots of toys can't do. 

With grocery list in hand, I will head to the store to make sure that I have plenty of ingredients for a pie that will do its part in mending the hurts of life knowing that it is so much more than just a pie.