As we were driving to school one morning, my daughter noticed a turkey vulture circling in the sky. “Why’s it doing that? Is it waiting for something to die?” I told her I didn’t know, but (going for something less morbid) maybe it was just enjoying the way it felt to ride the wind. Many of these birds live in our neighborhood and most afternoons, you can see them gliding for the pure joy of it, hardly ever needing to flap their wings. I wonder what it must feel like to trust the air to hold you.
Then I thought about what someone said the other day. I was making so many connections, it felt like my own little renaissance. Then she said, “After you make all these connections and everything seems so clear, you’ll have a time when it’s not so clear. I want you to know it’s coming so you don’t think you’re doing something wrong. It’s just how the brain learns.”
Weird, I thought. Maybe that’s why I keep circling around the same life lessons. I thought it was because I didn’t learn well enough the first time, but maybe, like a child building a tower of blocks, we need to knock it all down and do it again. Maybe each time I learn a lesson from a new situation and come at it from another angle or hear it explained in different words, my belief gets stronger than it ever could with one pass. I’ve been frustrated by how “slowly” I learn, but now I want to trade my frustration for trust. If God is patient with me, I’ll try to be too. I imagine it would feel good to trust and ride the wind. So good, I won’t even mind that we’re circling.
But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles. Isaiah 40:31
