Spiritual Clumsiness and the Pursuit of Balance

Pain surged through my body. I hit the ground hard. I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. Did I hit my head? Am I bleeding? I can't move my elbow. Is it broken?

I lay still on the driveway just outside my garage. The grit of the concrete felt like a thousand needles scratching against the raw scrape of skin on my rib cage.

I wasn't doing anything dangerous or daring. I never get hurt doing anything cool. I was pulling the mower out of the garage when my heel caught on a brick and fell. It hurt. I was stunned and worried. Thankfully the only injuries were a few scrapes and bruises and a blow to my pride. But it happened so quickly. That's what shook me the most.*

I'm often off-balance. My left foot/ankle only partially works, so I stumble a lot. But that's not what I'm talking about. I mean, I often trip over my thoughts and theology, my convictions and actions, my faith and doubt. I trip myself up and wind up with my soul and spirit aching, wondering if this something is hurt or broken beyond repair.

I'm learning to be more honest about my struggles. I'm learning to notice the ache in my soul that often accompanies my spiritual clumsiness. I'm learning the importance of being present with and in the pain that is an inevitable part of my life.

My first instinct is always to run from pain. I try to shelter from it or bury it deep enough to pretend it isn't there. It doesn't help. The pain always finds a way back to the surface eventually. I want to be happy as much as anyone, and I often am. But I'm convinced that the pursuit of balance is more important than the pursuit of happiness or a perfect life.

Balance comes from God, the steady presence in joy and suffering, grief and celebration, pain, and relief. I'm learning to sense, see, and cling to God's presence in the good and the bad and in ALL things. That is balance, whether running at full stride or lying on the ground.

*The security camera on my garage caught my fall on video. Enjoy a quick glimpse of my clumsiness.