"Come to the Edge"

I'll be honest, I think I'm being a lot harsher on myself than I need to be. I feel so overwhelmed trying to keep up with everything, and when someone came up to me today and mentioned one more thing I'd been letting slip through my fingers, I felt so utterly awful about it that I ended up hiding in my room for most of the day. I resorted to reading in an attempt to stave off the encroaching feelings of self-directed anger and discouragement. While reading, I found this passage:

That inclination not to trust, that tendency not to have the faith we ought to have, undoubtedly robs us of some of God's greatest blessings. I am reminded of this little dialogue:
"Come to the edge," he said.
"No, we will fall."
"Come to the edge," he said.
"No, we will fall."
"Come to the edge," he said.
So we came to the edge, he pushed us -- and we flew. (Patricia Holland, A Quiet Heart -- you know, I swear she wrote that book just for me)

Now I don't know about you, but I've always found the metaphor of flight to be absolutely inspiring. Something about it stirs the depths of my soul like no other concept has ever done. And for reasons too complex to explain here, I have always preferred the imagery of a sparrow, rather than an eagle. Hence my choice of picture for this post. But that aside, I was moved by this little story, because it sums up my life exactly.

As Stephanie so gently reminded me tonight, the Lord will never ask us to do something that we can't handle. But that doesn't stop Him from taking us to the very edge of our abilities. He will take us to our limits, to the point where we are sure that we will fall (or fail). Where we cannot comprehend that we can possibly handle any more. And then He will take us just a bit further -- pushing us off the edge, if need be -- to force us to fly. But the beautiful thing is that we do fly. And by flying, we reach heights greater than that edge from which we started.

I am at that crucial moment in my life where the Lord stands at the edge and beckons, His eyes filled with love and reassurance, asking me to trust Him enough to come to the edge, where He will give me that gentle push because He knows, just as my family and all the wonderful people who build me up day after day when I fall down know, that my wings are there, and they are strong enough to grant me flight. I can't see those wings. They're behind me, just out of eyesight, but everyone else can see them.

I told Stephanie tonight that I wondered what had happened to that girl I used to be. The girl who could handle anything. With the beautiful simplicity that only Stephanie can supply, she replied, "She's still in there. She may have been trampled on by a herd of angry, pissed off elephants, but she's still there." My wings are there. Perhaps a bit battered and weatherbeaten, but I look inside myself and I know that they are still strong and able. 

Therefore, the question I must ask is not Will I fall? but rather, Do I trust Him? Do I trust that He knows whether or not my wings can bear me aloft? Do I believe that He would only beckon me to the very edge of my limits because He knows I can handle it?

My answer: I do.

Thank you to everyone who reminds me that I still have my wings, even when I seem to forget how to fly.