People that know me best may sometimes describe part of my personality as “worry-wart” or “overly cautious.” I do tend to worry way too much, mainly about the safety of my family. I often also silently stress about my performance at a job or at being a mother, about living up to the expectations of God, or about revealing to the world that I’ve got it all under control. Such worries can often be crippling to a person’s life, stopping them from having fulfilling relationships or achieving goals. Though my worries haven’t hindered my life in big ways at this point, I think twice if flying in an airplane is necessary to achieve a career goal, and I never go to bed with the front door unlocked. I simply desire a feeling of security.
I am not sure from where such worries truly stem, but I have some ideas. A serious car wreck when I was a teenager and losing my grandmother to cancer that same year are situations I tend to blame. Part of it, though, is surely just part of my personality. However, as I have gotten older, and grown in my understanding of my relationship with God, I have concluded that the main reason I am a “worry wart” is because I lack trust and faith. It’s difficult to admit, but it’s true.
Despite my need for a sense of security in all aspects of life, however, I have one ironic interest—skydiving. Now, don’t misunderstand. I haven’t ever been, but the idea has fascinated me for years. The ability to jump into the air and discover the true meaning of “free fall” seems exhilarating. When I am experiencing an amusement ride, it’s the dropping sensation I love the most, the feeling most like an actual free fall. I guess this irony in my life exists because I am so guarded in much of my life; deep down I simply want to be able to let go; not to give up, but to take a leap without thinking about all the consequences first.
Denise Levertov, a American poet who died in the late twentieth century, was a woman who examined spiritual concepts throughout most of her life. Though she chose agnosticism initially, Levertov converted to Catholicism and began to follow Christ in her sixties. Because of her mixed spiritual background, with interests in Hasidic mysticism, Anglicanism, and ancient mythology, I would imagine that the decision to accept the grace of God would be a difficult one. Her poem “Avowal,” however, illustrates a different sentiment altogether, one that makes me conclude that she gave into the salvation God offered with pure abandonment of her own will.
The Avowal
As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.
After reading and rereading and rereading this poem, I continue to walk away with an overwhelming desire to experience this kind of freedom in Christ, this kind of trust in the grace of God alone, to give in completely, with abandon and never looking back. I believe that the closest followers of Jesus experienced a similar free-fall. When Christ called his disciples to follow him, they left their past lives, they gave in completely despite the sacrifices or the fears or the unknowns. The New Testament presents men who were so ready for Christ in their life, when he showed up, they simply fell into that “Spirit’s deep embrace.”
As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea - for they were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.
As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him.
One term you see repeated in these scriptures is “immediately.” The fishermen don’t hesitate, wandering what they would leave behind or if the future would be safe or if this man could be trusted. They immediately accepted Jesus as leader. In some ways, such a relinquishing of control seems scary to me, as I often like plans and the safest path, but mostly, such a free-fall sounds exhilarating. Ultimately, it’s the safest, most freeing choice I can make. Unfortunately, I still don’t always have the trust of a swimmer or hawk, but continually pray that God will teach me how to skydive into His grace.