Like most of life, the game wasn’t fair. When the music stopped and the familiar voice came through the speaker, the regulars gathered in the center of Bud’s Roller Rink for the limbo. With nicknames like shrimp and shortstuff you can imagine, I had a distinct advantage. I was tiny. To clear the first several bars I simply ducked my head and shoulders. Toward the end, I hugged my knees in a tight ball and rolled right under the bar without brushing it. If I had any real competition I stuck one straight leg out to the side and leaned below my bent knee to clear the bar only inches from the floor. I can’t remember for sure, but I don’t think there was even a prize for being miniature. Now, I’m wondering how low I can go.

Limbo, limbo, limbo

When I got older I learned that’s not how you properly limbo, yet I never grew much so I still maintained my advantage. Besides I could bend like Gumby and my strength was disproportionate to my size, so I continued winning the prizeless game.

Now I hate limbo. No, I loathe it, despise it, can’t stand it. The last two to three years of my life I’ve lived in constant limbo. Stuck between doctor and patient, Mrs. and Ms., here and there, life and death, I want it to end or at least I think I deserve a prize.

Every time I clear a bar and circle back around, someone has lowered it to an impossible low. The bar is precariously perched on pegs waiting for one wrong move before it crashes and I’m out. Honestly, this is about as low as I can go and I’m only inches off the floor anyway.

Wondering how low I can go

Alone in my dark house, I’ve curled up tight in a ball and I’ve bent over backward until I nearly herniated a disc (Gumby isn’t as young as she used to be). But it doesn’t feel like I’m winning. No, it feels more like I’m waiting for the bar to clang to the ground and leave a knot on my head as a consolation prize.

Living in the land of limbo

At least I’m in good company. Abraham lived in limbo after God called him to leave his country and everything familiar.

Oh how we love familiar…

Joseph lived in limbo while unfairly imprisoned, he faithfully served until he became second in command.

Oh how we hate injustice…

David spent years in limbo running from a deranged man he would succeed on the throne.

Oh how we hate waiting..

Are you living in limbo? Between what you’re called to do and doing it? Between knowing and choosing? Between questions and answers and fear the answers aren’t what you want? How low can you go?

Are you on the floor?

Sometimes we know what we are supposed to do but we can’t see a way. Yet God doesn’t often reveal the way until we’ve made the commitment to follow His leading regardless. At least that’s how He deals with me. He calls me to give up familiar, wait for His timing and leave justice to God. But there is a prize for looking up and not staying on the floor.

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He is the lighter of my path

Psalm 119:105, “Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” HCSB

He is the lifter of my head

Psalm 3:3, “But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.” NIV

And the lifter of my feet

Psalm 40:2, “He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” NLT

So I will tuck in tight to God and His promises, then eventually I will raise my arms in victory. Because the Lord is by my side and on my side and He is the prize.

Isaiah 43:2-3, “When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you. When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down. When you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end – Because I am God, your personal God.” MSG

I still hate limbo. Can we stop and just play The Hokey Pokey now?