The rope was long and it looked sturdy as it dangled from a huge, old cottonwood that towered over the river. I watched my brothers swing on the tire that sailed out over the river. The rope never broke, the bow that held it never gave way, and they did not fall in the river below, but it took me awhile to trust the tire, the rope, the tree, and my own strength and ability.
It was an old swing in our new back yard. The distance from the tire to the water seemed huge and the water was not clear, but dark brown, like the soil of that prairie place. It was not water I wanted to fall or dive or even step into and so I steered clear of the swing.
But the swing kept calling to me, the thought of sailing out into the sky would not let me go. Every day I walked over to the tree sometimes tugging on the rope then putting one foot on the tire, always backing away and leaving it for another time.
Finally, the day came when I grabbed hold with all my might and pushed off into the sky, flying over the river, as if I could land on the opposite bank. It was wondrous to fly out into the wild blue yonder. I did it again and again. The new found freedom made my heart sing. I felt daring and strong, confident and capable.
Like the swing, God keeps calling me, inviting me to take hold and let go, to trust that my ability combined with the work of other hands and hearts can take us places we cannot go alone. I am grateful for all the people—whether family, friends, or strangers that have joined me on the journey, modeled new ideas, new possibilities, and led me into things I could not have learned or accomplished alone.
At the time I did not notice, or even count the gift given to me by my older brothers. The two of them did much to show me the way. They may not have noticed me watching, learning from the way they positioned themselves on the swing, how they gathered momentum by running and leaping on the tire.
But as I witnessed their skill, I began to acquire some of it. They were bigger, stronger, older, and more skillful at many things. I am sure there were times when they got tired of a little sister tagging along, but they also looked out for me.
Like the day I stepped on a big old rusty nail and one of them stayed with me and one of them ran to get mom and dad. They are far away now, but still I learn from them and still they look out for me.
It’s just one of many ways I have learned about God’s love and care—through the gifts of those around me, and the challenge of watching and witnessing others who teach me how to grow and stretch, bounding out into the wild blue yonder of this wondrous life that is given to each of us so freely, so generously.
Many times I have remembered the tree, the tire, and flying out over the river as I contemplate some new adventure. It is part of the journey of faith, learning to trust that God loves me and is with me no matter what, strong enough to hold me and anchor me as I catapult out into the world around me. Sometimes it is tempting to stay where I am, but God invites us to try new things that we might grow more deeply. It is good to watch and wait, to test the waters and the ropes, but it is also good to grab hold and let go, fly out over the river and back again.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This week our contributor is Pastor Beth Benson of the First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ.
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