Swinging

悬

I was swinging one day. 

Up, flying, soaring, rushing, reaching.

Down, falling, plummeting, whistling, hurling.

Up, toes pointed, leaning back.

Down, curled tightly, no trust to lean, anticipating.

Up, breathing in. 

Down, not breathing at all. 

I have changed directions. 

Once again, I am flying.

But for the last month, I was falling. 

Yet how far can flying take you when you know the rope will jerk your neck back to the ground at any moment?

When freedom is limited, how is it freedom?

Here I am, safe again.

There are words now where there were not before. 

Yet here I am.

Still swinging.

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I am back to safety. I should be happy. Yet all I can think is that I will never truly escape. I am stuck in suspension on this playground of someone else's twisted mind. Suspension. Swinging. 

2nd Corinthians 3:17: "...where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."

     Lord, I give You this situation once again. 

     I give You its future. 

     I give You all hope I have of escape. 

     Let me jump off the swing into Your arms.