An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.
I remember learning Newton’s First Law of Motion in sixth grade. It was the first {and last} time science ever interested me. I clearly remember the example my teacher used to demonstrate how inertia affected the law: she pretended to be sitting in a moving car when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes, which sent her flying forward. Funny stuff in a classroom full of 10 and 11 year olds.
Then there was the pendulum…an object at rest. Until my teacher lifted a bob on one end, then let go of it, allowing it to hit and force the other bobs into motion. The bobs stayed in motion, swinging back and forth, until she stopped them with her hand.
* * * * *
Nearly two years ago, my counselor described me as a swinging pendulum.
For thirty years, I’d been at rest. I had no need to question my faith or my deeply-rooted beliefs. But at age thirty, crisis hit me with force and set me into motion.
With one crisis, I shot from thirty years of behavior modification to false independence, then back to behavior modification.
As a result, I’ve spent the last seven years swinging with one foot dragging the ground, stirring up the foundation beneath me, trying to find the middle…a place to step off…a resting place.
As the Guiding Hand seems to be slowing the pendulum, I find that the resting place is closer to
-
grace rather than legalism
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forgiveness rather than bitterness
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acceptance rather than anxiety
- humility rather than the prideful need to be right.
My heart beats a little faster with at the anticipation of jumping off. What if I land in the mud? Will I stick the landing, or fall flat on my face?
I guess faith is all in taking the leap.
