We are all falling, all descending; down, down, down into the recesses of life. We can’t see everything, but everything is there. We can’t see the bottom, but it will be there. Sometimes we will see it from afar, but sometimes it will rise up like a terrible surprise for which there is no applause. It isn’t so bad though, the bottom. It is simply a landing point. Whether you land softly, or smack into it, it remains solid. You can’t break it – it is the truth. Yes the truth hurts, but it also comforts. It guides, it reveals, it is life, and life is true.
[John 1:5] – “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.”
Have you seen my parachute? Actually, I don’t completely know its shape. I can feel it holding me strong; I can see and feel its ropes leading up and up; I hear its blown kisses as it whistles me downwards; and occasionally I see it, though I feel, not quite fully. We all have those parachutes, keeping us afloat, letting us soak in the view of life, biding us time to enjoy its surprises. The parachute gives us comfort; it cannot be removed however much we struggle. We cannot control our descent. We have to leave it to the winds and to the ‘chute.
[John 3:8] – “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Down down down, yet up, up up. There is a euphoria about the fall, as if in our growing older, we are also growing stronger. It is an oxymoron of sort but one that finds truth in the unseen. A weakened body, and yet a strengthened spirit. A hope in something not seen: that’s faith is, isn’t it?
[Hebrews 11:1] – “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
Ah, the landing. I can see mine but I am ready. I’ve felt it coming in the strings of the ‘chute. It seemed to push me forward; firm, but also gently. I’m excited at the prospect that once I land, I’ll get to see my parachute; see face to face what has embraced me unceasingly through life. I’ll be able to turn around, trace the strings back and finally, be level with my ‘chute.
[1 Corinthians 13:12] – “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”
Still attached. It seems this parachute cannot be removed. I’m glad; that unmistakable criss-crossed support that holds me upright. Now to trace it to its wings. Even now the colours astonish me. Even now its height and depth, length and breadth; stretching it seems, for eternity; holding it seems, eternity. Yards to explore, greater things than I saw when descending. More, more, more is what the landing holds.
[Ephesians 2:17-19] – “… that Christ might dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height – to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”