Resistance

“Kites rise high­est against the wind; not with it.” Sir Win­ston Churchill
I have always liked things that are moved by the wind: kites, sail­boats, hang glid­ers, clouds, leaves, limbs, wind­mills, paper air­planes, birds, and even an occa­sional dust storm (as long as I don’t have to be out in it). Wind. Life in motion. The invis­i­ble ingre­di­ent that the ancients equated with the Spirit. It changes things in sub­tle ways, like ever-changing sand dunes. It can also level a town, in its sever­est forms.
With­out resis­tance, its magic would be gone. Fall leaves would not shiver in the cold north wind. Sail­boats would sim­ply sit. Sailplanes would plum­met instead of grace­fully glid­ing aloft — as if on the wings of angels. I love how pel­i­cans catch the winds pushed by the waves. They can ride only a cou­ple of feet above the approach­ing waves with­out flap­ping their wings for very long dis­tances. We bipeds can­not fully expe­ri­ence that mys­tique. We must set­tle for imi­ta­tions — like sky­div­ing or snow ski­ing — sim­i­lar but not the same.
We cel­e­brate the great resis­tances of life. Like the Jack­son Brown song, Against the Wind, we expe­ri­ence our lives as hav­ing to deal with forces that try to hold us back. “Run­ning against the wind” takes twice the effort, and is a com­pound effort of soul. It is dis­ci­pline plus absolute resolve. We are bet­ter peo­ple for hav­ing taken on resis­tant paths. Uphill climbs even­tu­ally grant us the more impres­sive view.
Some­times I go with the flow of life. Some­times I resist it all to make a point — if only to myself. I always main­tain the stance that I can face, defy, resist, or walk away from any­thing. It is a trait that I have noticed about Jesus. Take those four verbs through the Gospels and see if you can­not see him in that light too. Some­times he sailed along. Some­times he peace­fully defied. His final action was his ascen­sion — defy­ing even grav­ity in com­plete com­po­sure. The view must have been magnificent.