But What If You Fly?

In this season I sit with crossed legs and Kleenex.  Fresh words spill out. Sometimes I sit in silence while he recites scripture and reminds me of when God has been faithful. The room where we meet holds so much of my story and he asks important questions. Questions, like:  “What do you think God thinks about that?” Followed by:  “What is the lie that you are believing?”

He is a Christian counselor who’s wisdom is patient, always hitting the mark.

He says a thousand words with a smile and a raise of his eyebrows.

Over the years he has become a wise father and confidant.

In a room full of books on theology and words written by Scott Peck and Brennan Manning I breathe easier. The clock above his head ticks slow as I get honest. With myself, with his knowing glance, and most importantly, with God. It’s a confessional. A place where I wrestle with words and feelings, disappointments, and successes.

I process life here.

Last Thursday in this place my mentor says something that shifts my soul. There is usually one sentence that he utters during the hour that slays me. One comment or gesture or scripture or quote that cuts to the core of things.

Twenty minutes into our time together I fiddle with my bracelet as I look down.  I wonder aloud: “Maybe I’m just on the downward slope in my life. Maybe with the ministry leadership stuff behind me my career is over.”

My confidant doesn’t flinch. He quickly replies: ” Have you ever thought that maybe everything is just beginning?”

……………Long pause………….

I breathe it in.

I consider the possibility.

I begin to wonder if just maybe he’s right.

I leave our time together with the gift of perspective.

If there is one thing I’ve learned,  with my own graduate degree in counseling hanging on the wall,  holding hands of hundreds over the years,  being on the other side of the chair in this room:

We need other people to have faith when ours wavers. We need someone to shift our perspective to a new view. We need a person to speak a loud truth into the darkest places, lighting a little flame. A flame that sparks a fire of belief again.

You see, when my counselor spoke those words into Satan’s lie?   My heart believed that they just might be true.  A new road just might lie ahead.

A road that looks like this:

So today I’m asking for my cloud of witnesses to gather around.

I sense a spiritual awakening. A peace and a direction, a calling.
A call to write in the in-betweens. A dream to pursue.
Because… maybe I’m just beginning to climb.  Maybe he was right, maybe I’ll fly.

Maybe that’s what we were all meant to do.

Maybe we are just too scared of heights.