The Power To Fall
We evolve when our life conditions become unworkable. -Doug King
I remember the day Pam got off the train, from her increasingly miserable daily commute into New York City, and said, “I am done with this.” We had two little girls and I wasn’t earning much in my first job out of seminary. She made more than I did. How were we going to survive? I tried talking her out of it, but failed, thankfully. It wasn’t easy. We had to re-jigger our whole life, but the decision made that day shifted the course of our family and ultimately led Pam to strike out on her own and write a remarkable series of books. It happened because her life had become unworkable.
Vibrant change only happens when things get chaotic and out of control. Those are the moments that spur us—if we’re awake, with enough courage and grace—to make the change. Think of the big turning points in your life. Almost invariably they arise at peak periods of struggle or crisis. Your career had become too painful to sustain. Some key relationship was bad and just not getting better. Your doctor had that frank conversation with you. Your faith buckled in the face of reality. The school called you in for a meeting about your child. That’s when you knew something had to change, and it was you. Almost everyone knows the first of the Twelve Steps: “We admitted . . . that our lives had become unmanageable.”
Everyone reaches these breaking points. For some reason, we don’t know why, God directs our lives along roads rutted with struggle. It appears to be the only way we grow. But sometimes we are just too determined not to let the breaking points break us. By God, we are going to find some way to keep this old life on track, even if it kills us. Sometimes we need that cussed persistence, but often it’s just fear, it’s just ego.
You may be at a breaking point right now, or it may feel like that time is not far away. What we need in that moment is grace, energy from beyond ourselves. It is a strange power, but we must trust it—the power to fall, to allow our old life to be broken so that something new can be created in its place.
Amen, David. Thank you. In the “trust” fall, God is with us, always.
Thanks, Kyle
As a fellow straphanger to the concrete jungle for 21 years, I can feel Pam’s pain! I strangely don’t mind the commute even though I am sure there are better uses of my time (#1 being exercise). But the reminder that most breakthroughs involve a significant breakdown a great one – it helps me appreciate the struggle, and the struggle is real.
Yeah—I know lots of people who enjoy their commute time. Pam just didn’t.
So true. There are many ways to live a good and holy life, but the lead-in often seems to be a lousy situation…peace, Johnna
Yes—-many different paths, and as many different breaking points.
Hi Johnna! I have tried to reach out to you electronically. Please message me on Facebook. Thanks!
Needed to hear that this morning. I’ve begun to embrace struggle (or anxiety or fear or panic) rather than run from it. But this is very, very new. Thanks, David. And thanks for “roads rutted with struggle.” Truth is truer when embedded in poetry!
I think this is new for most all of us. Or, for me at least, it’s a lesson I have to learn anew every day.
I’m so glad to be on your mailing list. I admit to not reading every message. But when I do, it’s like you wrote it especially for me. Today reminds me that great changes in my life have always been preceded by spiritual and mental turmoil. Your mention of the first step – “our lives had become unmanageable” – certainly applies to these periods of my life. The age markers for my great changes came at 31 years old, 41 years old, and 64 years old. And now, at 71 years old, I’m actively working on discerning what God has in mind for me next. It’s hard work, but well worth the turmoil. Thanks again for your messages.
Thanks, James, I love how much attention you have paid to your life, your life patterns. 31, 41, 64, 71. My guess is, when the next one hits you won’t be exactly surprised, the way you were at age 31. That’s a beautiful spiritual practice.
Thank you so much for this, David. I, like Pam, made a life changing decision to change the trajectory of my life, from corporate sales to starting my own business. I too was the major bread winner and it really was a financial strain for many years. When asked how I got into designer cookie decorating, I have always said it was a “God moment”. I had absolutely no prior experience, no clear path forward, and only the faith in myself and God that this change would place me on a path that allowed me to be my very best self. Over the last 22 years I have sometimes listened closely to God’s message, and sometimes He has had to hit me over the head a little harder to get my attention, but He has always been there. Kyle is correct, in the “trust” fall God is with us always.
That’s an inspiring story, Kim—-and I love the part about sometimes listening to God and sometimes needing to be hit over the head!
As usual, David you have hit the nail on the head in addressing the need to ‘trust in the power to fall” and recognizing the breaking point. Four years ago this fall I reached my ‘point’ and at a meeting with my bosses, as they explained what they had in mind for me in the new year in regards to ‘improvement’ and ‘performance’, after nearly twenty years of working there, I quietly stated that what I had in mind for the new year, was creating a transition plan so I could move on. Needless to say, they were not expecting that response- and honestly neither was I until it was out there. I entered, and at times am still dealing with a certain amount of uncertainty. However, I would not trade that ‘sense of grace and the power to fall’ for anything!
Thank you for reinforcing that idea and allowing all of us the sense that it is okay to emerge from the cocoon as the butterfly that we are meant to be in God’s world.
Thanks for sharing that, John. I’m always amazed when I hear stories like yours—of courage and faith. And thanks for being honest enough to say that there are still moments of uncertainty. You could have left that part out. I’m glad you didn’t.