One of my childhood dreams was to be able to fly a kite. For one reason
or another, I could never quite pull it off. I envied greatly those playmates
of mine who could launch a burst of color into infinity with apparently
little effort. My kite seemed destined to be earthbound forever, and I didn't
like it, not one bit.
I still don't like being earthbound. I want to fly! I want to explore the heights -- Up and Out There! I yearn for deliverance from the bondage of my humanity. I want to shake off the shackles of my aching muscles and poor hearing, my Tragedy Queen personality ("Nobody knows the trouble I've seen!") and my 3-M complex (mother-martyr-messiah). I want to be free of all those things which limit me, restrain me. Ah, yes, I want to be above it all!
But I can't fly. At least not by myself. I am like the kite, needing wind to bring me to life. Yes, I depend on the Risen Jesus to raise me up. Often He comes like a gusty March wind, stirring me up, shaking me out of my complacency, my boredom, my apathy. But for all His gustiness, the Lord is gentle. "A bruised reed he shall not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench" (Is. 42,3). How grateful I am that He respects my limits! In His mercy and compassion, He both honors and hallows our human condition.
Again like the kite, I cannot launch myself alone. I need the assistance of others. Sometimes the other will be one of the marvelous comrades God has given to me -- a cherished friend, a trusted confidant, a kindred spirit, a beloved spouse. More often than not, I will be launched by the very person who crosses me, angers me, hurts or disappoints me. We are all God's gift to each other. In one way or another, we touch and move every person who comes into our lives. We can either tie each other down or set one another free.
Kites fly best in wide-open spaces. So it behooves me to venture forth out of myself, out of my own little ideas and hidden agendas, surrendering myself with confidence and joy to the Risen Christ who goes before me into all the Galilees of my life. I must allow Him to lead and even carry me, if necessary, where He will. Letting go is essential. Kites that are tightly controlled remain earthbound and don't fly at all. In His own time, in His own way, Jesus will lead all of us out of our captivity, whatever it may be. In Him we are not only shown but given the Way.
So it is that here and now, in our earthly exile, we can share in the risen life of our Lord and Savior. Ours is the resurrection song for we are indeed an Easter people, raised to new life with and by Him who once was dead but now lives forever. ALLELUIA!
Alice Claire Mansfield
© March 1991