My daughter Lindsey is so much fun to play with. She’s cuddly and adorable; she has a great laugh and grin; and she enjoys life to the fullest. When she was around a year old or so, one of the games she loved to play was “spinning”. I would stand up, holding her facing me. She would wrap her legs around my waist, and I would cradle her in my arms as she leaned back, supporting her head and back. Then, we would spin.
Oh, I can still hear her giggles and see her delighted grin. She thought spinning was the greatest game in the world. I’d spin her once in a circle and stop so that I wouldn’t get dizzy. Lindsey, on the other hand, could go in circles for hours, or maybe days, without getting dizzy. When I stopped, she would beg me to start again.
I’d usually oblige her, spinning her in another circle, stopping, and letting her talk me into doing it again. We’d do it again and again, until I got tired and had to quit.
Have you ever played this game? If you have, you know that as your child leans back in your arms, you must carefully support him or her. You also know that as you spin, the force that is generated pushes your child back against your arms and hands. The faster you spin, the harder your child is pushed back against your outstretched arms.
Lindsey and I were spinning one day when I realized something. Our game of spinning is a lot like how life is with God. Let me explain.
Sometimes, God holds us close against his chest and cuddles us, as I do for Lindsey. Other times, however, as life spins crazily, we find ourselves held not against his chest, but against his outstretched arms. The faster life spins, the stronger the force pushing us against his arms beneath us.
Just as it looks to Lindsey like she is farther away from me when she is lying back on my arms, so life looks to us sometimes. We look at God, and he seems farther away. What we want is to be held and cuddled against his chest, and when we don’t have that, we get frightened and upset.
Was Lindsey frightened when I spun her? Not at all. Neither should we be frightened when life is spinning us, because just as Lindsey knew, we know that there are arms underneath us, and that the faster the spin, the stronger the force holding us in those arms.
We may not giggle and laugh as Lindsey does when we are spinning. For us, sometimes the spinning isn’t fun at all. Sometimes, it’s tragic. Sometimes, it’s just our own fault. Sometimes, it’s terrifying.
But think about this a minute. Could Lindsey feel the force pushing her back against my arms? Of course, she could. The faster we spun, the more solidly she could feel my arms beneath her. That’s what allowed her to laugh, squeal, and enjoy the ride. Without the feeling of my support, she would have been terrified. With my support, she was exhilarated.
Could we experience life the same way?
Maybe. Maybe not. When circumstances are agonizing, we’re not going to laugh. It’s not going to be fun or exhilarating at all.
But we don’t have to be afraid. We never have to be afraid. The same arms that cuddle us close are the same arms that hold us secure, even when life seems to be spinning out of control. In fact, it’s during the times when the spinning is craziest that those arms hold us most strongly.
We often use that phrase—spinning “out of control”. Dear friends, let me suggest a better phrase.
How about spinning “into” control?
It’s true, isn’t it? And it reflects the principle that when the spinning is strongest, so is the support. We never spin out of God’s control. God never loses control of us for any reason. In fact, during the times of life that feel most out of control, he gives us the incredible gift of letting us sense his arms beneath us the most strongly. As we spin, we are pressed into his arms. We spin into control.
The next time you’re spinning—and the time will come—remember this. Take a moment, and feel those arms beneath you. He’s got you. He’ll never let you fall.
Isaiah 26:3—You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.