In, Over My Head

“God” means different things to different people.  “A higher power” … For some He is more.  For some He is less.

In, over my head.  I am there.  Some days, more than others.  A while back, I I hiked up to Falcon, a place not far from where we all hang our hats.  Quite a view.  Usually, I came to Falcon to ignore, to avoid, that haunting possibility.  On this occasion, I was angry about being in over my head.  I hiked off the trail to find a rocky ledge.  I looked upward, thinking about the expression, “the heavens”.  Somewhere beyond the blue and the clouds were, apparently, the elusive and unseen heavens.  I continued to stare into the sky, considering  an equally and unseen God who resided, somewhere past the sky, past the heavens, or … in the far end of the heavens.  The God, in the midst of the good things, the beauty, and at the same time in the midst of the chaos, the anger … poking me, the pain never far away.  The One I was angry with.  I couldn’t get to Him … at least that was my perspective from the rocky ledge, somewhere on Falcon.  He had the sky and clouds, the “heavens”, separating me from Him.  I raised my fist, and challenged Him.  I asked, “Where are you, God?  You are too busy for me, eh?”  I waited.  Silence.  The air, not much movement.  Trees waited with me, sharing the stillness.  A breeze came toward me, as if I had called it, which I had not.  The breeze reached me, and moved past me, over my face, my forehead, through my hair, past my arms … hair a bit ruffled.  What came next was a strong wind that changed to a fierce wind, and changed to a wind that pushed me, like fingers from a strong hand, an intimidating man challenging me, because of something I said.  The power with which I shook my fist, on the rocky ledge, had moved on with the breeze, slipping past me.  I had stepped down from the ledge, and positioned myself between two boulders, looking for shelter.  Words came to me, not from me.

"I am here."

"You really don't know much about Me, or what I do."

"By the way, I'm glad we've had this talk."

These days I still feel like I am in over my head when I think about what it means to love, to hope for good, to focus less on my self than others, to not worry, to give away my critical stuff, my isolation, to be nice and honorable and teachable.  But, I am more careful about going up to Falcon, who I shake my fist at.





4 thoughts on “In, Over My Head

  1. man, this was a powerful piece. i am reminded of a song that i recently came across. here it is performed live by a band called manchester orchestra, singing ‘where have you been?’ about a guy looking for god. watch to the end.

    they also sing another one that kind of rips my heart out called, ‘i can feel your pain.’

    both say so much.

    i feel like your encounter on falcon was a powerful message in many ways. you are challenging the world and beyond. not sure what you’ll find, but looking none the less. dipping a toe in..might not like what you find, but are saying, ‘bring it!”

    p.s. you are one mighty writer.


    1. Wow. I am sitting at my desk in the loft, during a rare-rare time when the kids are with my wife, out … the silence is deafening as I watched Andy Hull pour it out, “Where have you been?” … I read the lyrics for both pieces. In “I can feel your pain”, here are some words that locked in me: “Well my God, what the hell am I supposed to do? / And I ran off and ran on to something …” I’ve read over the lyrics, several times, of “Where have you been?” They are full of emotion, relationship, and authenticity. Wow. Hey, I really, really, appreciate you kind words about my writing! It does mean a great deal, coming from you. Peace to you.


      1. i did the same thing with the lyrics for both songs, both moved me so much. andy was raised in a pretty religious family and is now beginning to question/understand some things – trying to make sense of things and find his peace. in the first, he feels abandoned by god or someone he has always looked up to and who has been there for him. powerful stuff and from the heart. glad that you felt that too –


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s