Soaring Balloons

Balloons spilled over the backseat, filling the car from floor to ceiling. Perhaps there were only 40 of them, but it looked like hundreds! All different colors, merrily waving to me as I attempted to glance out using my rearview mirror. It was a cheery sight, and brought a smile to my face as I reflected upon what it meant to turn forty! How delightful to have so many good friends, such an awesome family, and to be part of a terrific congregation.

The next day, however, presented feelings of a different kind. Instead of the buoyant, proud balloons that greeted me jubilantly the morning prior, now I met a pathetic assortment of drooping, wrinkled latex, bowing low against the seats. I'd forgotten to bring in the balloons the night before, so I had to run several errands with a car full of worn out, tired looking...things... attached to ribbon.

Isn't that like life? We are flying high one day, on top of the world, barely able to contain our joy and enthusiasm, loosely held by ribbons of responsibility, ready to soar past any doubts and worries. Then the next day finds that those ribbons feel like chains, and we feel as if the air is slowly leaking from our "balloon" and we feel limp and weary, unable to rise above the challenges upon us.

What do we do when that happens? One day, I'm feeling buoyant, confident, secure, like my birthday balloons were when I received them. Another day, I'm feeling weary, drained, pulled down, like those balloons that had lost their air. I was struck, looking back at those limp balloons, at how easily we can get sucked into that pattern, of looking back... looking down... focusing on our flaws, failures, wrinkles. Last night, at youth group, I complimented one of the members of our Praise Band. I told her how beautifully she had sang during Worship Service in the morning. Instead of embracing the compliment, and acknowledging her gifts and talents, she shrugged off my praise. She put herself down, and said, "I didn't sound good, I sounded like a guy." Now, this young woman has a lovely voice! She has a fantastic range, and the ability to hit some high notes as well as carrying off lower ones. I wasn't just trying to make her feel good, I was being sincere with my comment. She really had sounded good, and more than that, her singing made me feel closer to the Spirit during morning worship.

When she remarked, "I sound like a guy", I had the thought that sometimes I feel as if I walk like a guy when I'm wearing heels. I made a funny remark to that effect, and some of our teens laughed because I said the word transvestite. Afterward, I wondered about the appropriateness, and I also reflected upon where that thought came from. I had a conversation with one of the students, and suddenly remembered where that "voice" began.

In high school, I was a "nerd", or as they called them at my school, a "dexter". I had straight A's, and I really liked school. I enjoyed learning, and that's something that has stuck with me into adulthood. I have always loved to read and expand my horizons with new ideas, thoughts. Not only was I a "dexter", I also played sports, so I was a "jock" as well. I wasn't as concerned with fashion in those days, and I didn't dress up that often. At my school, the cheerleaders were a lot like the stereotypical portrayal of cheerleaders that are often seen in movies or t.v.shows. One rare day, when I wore a dress and heels to school (because I might have had a presentation to do in class... I really don't remember the circumstances), one of the prettiest cheerleaders remarked that I looked ridiculous in heels and that I walked like a "transvestite".

I have to confess that at the time, I didn't even know what that term meant. I thought she was calling me a vampire, implying that I came from Transylvania. I think I responded back to her, asking if she was saying I was a vampire. Then she stated, "No stupid... a guy in drag." I still didn't get it, and wondered what was the guy dragging? Oh my... just thinking about this makes me feel like a dork! I think she ended up being exasperated with trying to explain her insults, and just walked away, leaving me with the parting shot that I looked ridiculous trying to walk in high heels.

Well, if that cheerleader could see me now! I often wear heels, and think I've learned to walk fairly well in them. Obviously though, twenty years have passed, and that comment still lurks deep within my subconscious, and cuts through the layers to send a jab on occasion. It's not alone. I have an entire closet full of "skeletons", past hurts and shames, that pound on the door of my heart, and try to rattle my confidence, try to "deflate the balloon" of my self esteem. It's amazing how quickly that door can open, how sly those old wounds can be, just waiting to pull you back into patterns of hurt and shame.

In the reading this week for Systematic Theology, we are examing "Sin and Theodicy". I find all of our theology material challenging, especially when confronted with unfamiliar terms, or perspectives that feel foreign. However, in the book, "Lift Every Voice", there are several essays discussing sin and shame, and the concepts they convey struck a chord. Particularly one that deals with domestic violence and abuse. I've been there. I've experienced that, and it's a constant struggle to walk away and let go of hurts and shames. There are too many days when I fall into the trap of looking back, and there's that limp and sagging "balloon" that seems to be me. My skeletons try to mock me, and say, "Look at us. Look at all your flaws and failures. See how low you have been, how closely to the ground you are dragging." Those old skeletons want to see me crushed, defeated, afraid.

I came across a terrific quote a while back. It held out the idea of throwing open the door of your "closet" and grabbing those skeletons out from within the recesses of the dark, and then dancing with them! I love that image, of fearlessly flinging open the door, and letting the Light, the Son, inside, sweeping away the darkness and the hold those old skeletons might have on you! I imagined throwing wide the door of the closet, taking the skeletons, one by one, and dancing them across the room, and outside to the trash!

God says, "Do not be afraid, for I am with you. I will rescue you forevermore." All we have to do is to give all our fears and shames to Him. We might feel limp, crushed, dragging.... Life, circumstances, people, our own mind... may all conspire against us and attempt to cause us to feel unworthy, weak, weary, aware of all our fears and failures. However, God is truly "mighty to save". He is able, able to clean us, able to heal all our wounds, able to love us, even when we feel the most unworthy and undeserving of that love. Still, He loves. He separates us from our sin, when we ask Him to clean us and make us whole. He takes all those old skeletons and makes them go away. He puts them away from us, "as far as the east is from the west", as if they were stones thrown away to the furthest spot in the sea. Isn't that marvelous? Isn't it amazing?

So, any day we are tempted to fall into the trap, to sink back into the pattern of shame, doubt, fear, failure, unworthiness, let us be mindful of this great God that we have! He doesn't view us like we are someone "in drag", someone stumbling. God sees us as precious, as His chosen ones, His treasure, worthy of His great love. May we claim that promise, and soar, jubilant, triumpantly filled with the knowledge that we are so much more than what the world wants to tell us that we are. We are children of the King! Amen.