Today, chilled to the fingers, I ran toward the lake, my mind wandering. Something shiny and bright caught my eye. Caught in the overhead telephone line was the shredded remains of a kite. It couldn’t get free, the tangles getting the best of it. But just as I looked skyward to see the imprisoned kite again, a flock of birds, flying in V formation, soared overhead.
In that moment, I knew.
Sometimes (a lot of times, if I’m willing to admit it), I am caught halfway between earth and heaven, imprisoned by something that looks an awful lot like shame. I am not alive where I’m caught. And yet, living creatures built to fly soar above me.
Those birds are what God intends me to be. He never intended His children to become so entangled by shame and pain that they cease to live. That they give up and hang on a wire while others fly on the wind. He made us to fly.
Oh dear Jesus. I want to fly. I’m tired of being tethered. Tired of the strings of shame wrapping themselves around me, choking me. Oh dear Jesus, make me a bird. Make me fly. Free me from whatever others have done that have shackled me to the wire. Free me from what I have done to myself and others that have kept me captive. I want to fly. So high. So long. To soar with You as my elevation. Raise me. Resurrect me. Make me alive. I love You. More than the wire. More than the tangles. More than the shame. More than the pain. Free me to fly, Jesus. Amen.