How We Can Learn to Soar

Photo by Mabel Amber


This morning when I was running, I saw numerous birds flying overhead, swooping down and folding their wings tightly into their bodies enjoying the roller coaster ride in the skies. They dipped farther and farther down then turned around and flapped their wings to reach the heights of a nearby tree. As my knees and my calves felt the burn with each stride around the soccer field, I marveled at how effortless the birds’ movements were. I thanked God for His engineering genius and creativity in making the flights of birds and began to think of how silly it would be if birds panicked over whether the next breeze would come through. I made me wonder if God didn’t mean for us to lead lives more similarly to birds—trusting in the unforced rhythms of grace. Have you read this verse in the Message version? From the very first time I read it, it breathed new life in my lungs and has stuck with me since. It says:


“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” – Matthew 11:28-30


When we imitate birds as children, we always flap our arms like wings, but the truth of the matter is that flying for birds isn’t just about flapping. Perhaps even more so, it is about soaring and gliding. Gliding is descending and moving short distances using the air to sort of gracefully freefall just as those birds this morning were dipping and swooping. Soaring is when birds catch warm currents of air that are rising in order to open their wings and piggy back on the free ride. Soaring can be done for longer distances than gliding.



Photo by Karl Anderson


In both cases, soaring and gliding keep wing flapping to a minimum and preserve the energy of the bird. The beauty of it all is that God specifically designed birds to be equipped for this unique way of moving around. Their feathers and sleek shape are aerodynamically engineered. This is why they don’t have to worry about catching their next wave of air or running out of flapping power. They are simply being themselves, existing exactly within the world that they were made for and within the function of their unique design.

If God is able to make birds with a distinct design that tells them how to move around in the world He created and how to exist exactly as He meant for them to be, wouldn’t it make sense that He’d have just as much attention to detail with each one of us? When we are in-tune with who God is, and we let Him tell us who we are because He made us—and only He knows—we don’t have to be under a yoke that isn’t designed for us by our Creator. We don’t have to let other people tell us what we have to do for them or who we’re supposed to be. We don’t have to succumb to internal pressures to measure up. We don’t have to justify our existence or our value, and we don’t have to be afraid to make mistakes. We don’t have to earn our place in this world or earn God’s love and favor. The bird doesn’t have to think too hard about gliding or soaring. It can rest in the security that the Creator has already made its wings aerodynamically perfect for the task at hand, needed for not only survival but for His great good and pleasure. Can you imagine a world without birds? They greet us with morning melodies. They pollinate plants and eat harmful insects. They contribute to the oxygen levels on the planet by spreading seeds that grow into plants and trees. They have so many functions that contribute to our livelihood as humans, but they have no five-year plans and aren’t aware of their impact. They are simply living life exactly as themselves, freely and lightly.

Sometimes, we think we have to flap our wings and strive within our lives and circumstances. In life, it seems like we’re always planning and hustling—to find meaning in our souls, to find success for our own comfort, to find purpose for our days, and to measure up to what our society or even internal compass tells us we need to do to be loved, to be important, to be free, and to be safe. We do have a part to play in how we choose to live out our lives, but we’ve already been designed to depend on the unforced rhythms of grace. Our biggest part to play is leaning into those currents of grace supplied by a good Father.

For any aircraft or bird to be able to fly, it has to maintain the balance of lightness. When it is over-encumbered by baggage, it needs more fuel to be able to navigate and propel itself forward. Sometimes, we may feel like we don’t have the fuel we need in order to be able to do all of the things we have on our plate, care for all of the people within our reach, and also work toward our own dreams. But, in reality, I think a lot of the time the issue isn’t how much fuel we have but the fact that we have taken on yokes that weren’t specifically designed for us. We are filling positions or meeting needs because we feel like there is no one else to do it, or we have gotten caught up in the euphoria of just being needed and are thriving in the false self of an identity that will only run us into the ground. But the truth is that He’s designed us with specific interests and talents and tendencies. Each life is a message to the world that doesn’t involve a blueprint or even cerebral intentionality all the time. He knows what He has naturally placed inside of you. He knows where exactly you’ll hit your sweet spot where who you are brings you joy, ministers to those around you, and brings new light into the world. But, I can almost guarantee that, like the birds, we will just naturally find it or, rather, stumble upon it as we merely seek His face. The more our eyes are on ourselves, the more we’ll convince ourselves we have to be something that we aren’t called to be. The birds don’t think their way into soaring; they are just using their natural vessels for what soon becomes their ever-intended nature.

Sometimes, God has us in a season of gliding. He won’t show us any more than the next right step. It can feel uncomfortable or even scary feeling like we have no clarity or clear-cut path, but when we lean into each dip on the way, we can find that the adventure with God is fun. We can enjoy the ride because we aren’t the ones driving. It’s not really riding all on us. As Elisabeth Elliot says, “God has promised to supply our needs. What we don’t have now we don’t need now.” There is a resting that comes when we know that keeping close to Him is key to having all the peace, provision, and love that we need.

While gliding for a bird is without almost any striving on their part, it does mean that they have very limited control over their own trajectory. We like to feel in control. But some of the best joys in life actually happen when we can feel those unforced rhythms of grace and the fidelity of God moving us forward in spite of trying circumstances. It can feel uncomfortable to not know what comes next. We can feel the panic and desire to come up with a justification of why and how, when and where. Like building a wind turbine, we can try to harness those currents for our own purposes. But it only makes us fall into striving once again. Trying to fill quotas of energy, trying to meet all of the needs.

Other times, we will be in a season of soaring. We may be facing rising pressure or moments of turbulence, but He has given us a vision to hold onto. He has shown us our destination, and He lifts us up even in intercession to keep us moving forward. And, even beyond having a vision that propels us with inspiration; He gives us Himself. We can spread our wings to depend on His nature. He gives us permission to quit striving, quit trying to climb the ladder of success. He doesn’t place the burden of forward motion on us other than to make the conscious choice to depend on Him. We don’t even have to control our own spiritual growth. We just keep our eyes on Him, and “His leadership is perfect in our lives,” as Hunter Thompson of Bethel Music sings out in spontaneous song.





What may be striking for us to realize along the way in this metaphoric learning is that birds don’t avoid times of turbulence. They have learned, rather, to trust that flying into the turbulence will actually lift them up higher. They navigate choppy air and violent storms with an ease that astounds scientists and can’t be fully explained. In the same way, we don’t have to avoid painful emotions or difficult circumstances or let them determine how we move forward in life. We can face them head on with the confidence that they will only move us higher and closer to the heart of the Father when we choose to spread our wings and catch ourselves up in dependency on His love and His character. When we let God be what propels us forward, the same turbulence that we encounter can actually be opportunities to be our best selves because we’re allowing God to show His nature of faithfulness despite our trials. We will be able to navigate some of our greatest life turbulences, even the seasons of life that are moving seemingly too fast or too slow, with supernatural strength and stamina because of the winds of the Holy Spirit.

If you’ve ever been through some great disappointments, you know that we often stop soaring whenever we’ve started telling ourselves who God is, and that characterization is less than His fullness in truth. Maybe it started with someone using God’s name in a way that was more associated with threat than with kindness. In actuality, it is His kindness that leads us to repentance and wanting to come under His wings of care. Perhaps it started with a prayer that felt like it was never answered or wasn’t answered in the way you wanted or expected. In those times, we’re faced with the decision to continue to believe that God is good or not. But regardless of what led to the sneaking suspicions in our hearts as to who God actually is and whether we can trust Him, there is no better way to get mucked down in life, running frantically seeking a new direction, and trying to grasp at the straws of what our life purpose is, than deciding that we can characterize God by our circumstances or by the pain others have inflicted upon us. Many times, I think we simply reach this conclusion because it’s too hard to face our pains and rejections. We grasp at understanding because while healing is what we actually need, it starts in a place of pain and not a place of numbness. We can’t reason pain away. But we can be like the bird, facing our hurts head-on and trusting that our Creator has already placed the winds of redemption that we need to soar higher.

John 3:8 – “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

We enter the reality of the Kingdom of God in greatest measure when we reach the end of ourselves and choose to humble ourselves in dependency. When we stop flapping our wings trying to make things happen and just take a step into the winds of God’s presence, He shows us not only who He is but also who we were always naturally meant to be. And so, we soar together.