God’s Gravity (Or, Stand On Your Head)

My life has typically been nothing but typical. I can’t understand some things, but I know whatever I understand that matters is not even understood by my head anyways.

I know that I, like every other human being in the world is not completely together, in pieces, broken. Things are missing: who I am  is not who I should be. There is dirt, there is pain, there is bad. There are things that make my body shake with grief, an ache deep inside an untouchable place.

Sometimes, the capacity to feel seems too much; can I really bear this much weight on my shoulder?

I don’t want this.

But I know that there are moments where that ache is alleviated, where this empty cavity in my chest is filled, every crack that once ached is soothed. The only word I can use to describe this is just pure love.  It invades me, superseding anything else.

It is, in those moments my reality. And let me tell you, it is far more real than the sadness. It is more real because all the bad stuff will go away. Yeah, it seems unbearable at times now, but now is so short. The tick of the clock, it’s gone. Just like that.

And joy remains.

This is the way The Kingdom functions. This is the plan of God. The only one.

To make right the wrong. Wipe away the tears. Make all the horrible stuff worth going through.

What if my goal in life is to illuminate these right moments, these jewels in the mud?

What if I need to give stories of redemption a platform to sing in the midst of a chaotic world?

Outside of my mental comprehension, somewhere deep in my chest where I see the sun rising in a newborn’s face,  I understand this.

Embrace the good.

That doesn’t mean ignore suffering, enjoy your bubble, turn off the images that are too much, actually, quite the opposite. It looks more like sharing in these sufferings, so you will share in the beauty that’s waiting on the other side.

This is the real power of positive thinking.

This is like The Kingdom of God’s gravity, it holds everything together.

Sometimes it feels like too much.

It’s hard to love when you have a full realization that the deeper you love someone, the more you are essentially giving them the power to severely injure your soul.

In India, I didn’t want to sit in the tiny stuffy bathroom weeping into the night because I knew the young women who had become my friends were living in a filthy brothel, servicing men night after night.

It’s hard to let go of bitterness when people of God fail you and chose to see that God was holding you through the entire event.

It’s easier to stay at arm’s length, to stay inside, to be casual, be cool, keep to ourselves, don’t look them in the eye. But we all know, but refuse to admit at times,

That

Is

Not

Life.

And- easier will become the death of us, inevitably.

Someone (whom I love very much, despite my fear) once told me whenever I was in a situation where I couldn’t find the good, to stand on my head.

I pictured blood rushing to my brain, as I saw, upside down, what I couldn’t see right side up.

And we all continue to spin together on this mad place we call planet earth, maybe in the midst of  all the tragedy and laughter we would remember it’s gravity that keeps us here, the breathe of God, the coming redemption, the ultimate future reign of love.