When The Spirit Falls Down And Catches You

So, you know that feeling? That feeling. The one where life has been a bit of a soggy biscuit for a while, and suddenly—wham—it’s like the universe decided to tap you on the shoulder with a marshmallow mallet.

You don’t see it coming. Never do. One minute you’re hunched over a lukewarm cup of coffee, wrestling with a spreadsheet that hates you. The next, your brain says, “Hey, let’s feel everything right now.”

It doesn’t announce itself

It doesn’t ring a doorbell. It just appears, like that friend who crashes your couch for three days. One moment you’re numb, the next you’re crying at a car insurance commercial. Again.

I’m talking about that moment when the heavy fog lifts. When a song catches you off guard, or a stranger smiles at you on the bus, or the sun hits the leaves just so. And for a split second, gravity lets go.

You feel like you’re floating. Just a little. It’s terrifying. It’s also the only thing that makes life worth the soggy-biscuit days.

How do you even prepare for it?

Spoiler: you can’t. You can’t schedule a spiritual ambush. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve lit candles, bought a journal with a fancy cover, and listened to meditative whale sounds. Nothing.

Then I dropped my toast, jam-side down, and laughed so hard I snorted. That was it. That was the spirit falling down and catching me.

So here’s my theory: the spirit is a bit of a prankster. It likes to show up when you’ve given up trying to look cool. When your guard is down, your hair is a mess, and you’re wearing mismatched socks.

What does it feel like in your body?

Like someone unbuttoned your chest. Your shoulders drop an inch. Your jaw unclenches. You might get a sudden case of the giggles, or a wave of warmth that starts in your belly and fizzes out through your fingers.

I once felt it while folding laundry. Folding laundry. The universe decided to bless me in the middle of separating socks. I just stood there, holding a warm towel, feeling like I’d been hugged from the inside.

Weird? Yes. Wonderful? Also yes. And that’s the point—it doesn’t have to be a mountaintop. It can be a sock.

Why does it catch us, anyway?

I think it’s a reminder. A little cosmic nudge that says, “Hey, you forgot you’re alive.” We get so busy doing the doing of life—paying bills, replying to texts, worrying about the future—that we forget to be alive.

So the spirit falls down like a clumsy angel. It knocks the wind out of you, but in a good way. Like a tackle-hug from your grandma.

It’s also deeply inconvenient. You can’t schedule it around your meetings. It’ll hit you right when you’re about to give a presentation. Suddenly you’re blinking back tears because the projector light made a rainbow on the wall.

Sermon Series – When the Spirit Falls – Glen Mar Church

You try to hide it. You cough, pretend you have allergies, mutter something about “dust.” But inside, you’re thinking, “Wow. I’m so lucky to see that rainbow.”

What to do when it happens

Don’t fight it. I know you want to—you want to be “normal” and “in control.” But that’s like trying to argue with a toddler who found a cupcake. Just surrender.

Put down your phone. Let the feeling wash over you. If you feel like crying, cry. If you feel like dancing in the cereal aisle, dance. The other shoppers will think you’re weird. That’s fine. They’re probably not feeling the spirit right now.

And here’s a little secret: once you let it catch you, it stays longer. It doesn’t fade as fast. You get to carry that warmth through the rest of your day. It tints everything gold for a few hours.

Is this just me being dramatic?

Possibly. I am a bit of a drama queen. But I also think we need to be dramatic about life. It’s short, weird, and mostly made of laundry and spreadsheets. So when the spirit falls, let it make a scene.

You know those people who say “live in the moment”? They’re not wrong, but they make it sound so easy. Like, “Just be present, man.” Well, my brain is usually present in a trash fire of worries. It takes a supernatural tackle-hug to pull me out.

So let’s be honest: we’re not Zen masters. We’re more like feral cats who occasionally get struck by wonder.

The afterglow is real

After the spirit catches you, things look different for a bit. The traffic jam is less annoying. The coffee tastes better. You might even forgive that coworker for stealing your pen.

It wears off, of course. It always does. Life creeps back in with its deadlines and damp towels. But you remember it. You file it away in your chest like a secret warmth.

And then, when you least expect it—when you’re grumpy or bored or exhausted—the spirit falls again. It catches you. And you think, “Oh, right. This is what I’m here for.”

So go ahead. Be a little unsteady. Let the weird grace of life knock you sideways. Because when the spirit falls down and catches you, it’s the best kind of fall you’ll ever take.

Now pass me the coffee. I think it’s about to happen again.