When the Soul Learns to Levitate

What is something others do that sparks your admiration?

There are moments when human beings do something that makes the rest of us stop and whisper a quiet “wow” without even realizing it. Not because they won awards. Not because they have the perfect résumé. But because, against everything that should have crushed them, they rose. I have always admired people who defy gravity. People whose stories make you feel the ground shift under your own feet because you suddenly realize resilience is not a personality trait. It is a choice. A spirit-level decision to stand when life tries to fold you.

I think about the documentary “Children in the Fire,” where Ukrainian children, orphaned by war or wounded by bomb raids, still chased their dreams. Some learned to walk again with new limbs. Some danced. Some played music. Some painted their futures with more courage than the world had ever given them. Watching them felt like witnessing Isaiah 61 in motion. The kind of beauty that grows out of ashes and refuses to apologize for thriving. It reminded me that the human spirit, partnered with God, can do things that physics cannot explain.

This is where my admiration lives. In the places where hope refuses to die. In the stories that remind me God bends reality for those who refuse to surrender their calling. Because as Psalm 34 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted,” and that closeness becomes a kind of fuel. The kind that lets people do the impossible.

And in a world obsessed with polished success, these are the people who show us the real success story is always the one that fought through pain, fear, loss, and impossibility, but still stepped into purpose.

They are the living proof that gravity is optional.

The Kind of Strength You Cannot Teach

There is a strength that comes from the gym, and then there is a strength that comes from the soul learning to rebuild itself. The latter is the one that captures me. When someone walks through fire and somehow comes out more generous, that is a miracle. When someone loses something essential but refuses to lose their compassion, that is supernatural.

I think about Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians, “My power is made perfect in weakness.” I used to read that as a comforting verse, but now I read it as a map. A way of understanding why the people who endure hardship often carry a clarity the rest of us spend years searching for. Hardship isn’t the point. The point is who they became while walking through it.

There is a quote by Haruki Murakami that says, “When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in.” Those who defy gravity embody this. Their story is not about avoiding storms. It is about transforming inside them, about finding God in the wind, in the rubble, in the unexpected renewal on the other side.

And that transformation becomes a testimony the rest of us borrow courage from.

Hope That Refuses to Stay Buried

What moves me most is how people like this hold hope the way one holds a lantern. Not high enough to show off, but close enough to their chest to walk forward. There is nothing loud about it. Nothing dramatic. Just a steady refusal to remain broken.

Romans 12 talks about being transformed by the renewing of the mind, and I see that renewal in the way survivors dream again. Not because the path is easy but because their spirit remembers that God writes restoration into the script long before the pain arrives.

I think of a line by Zora Neale Hurston, “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” The children in that documentary lived through years that asked cruel, impossible questions, yet their lives still answered with perseverance, creativity, laughter, and hope. That is defiance at its purest form.

And it teaches me that rising is rarely about circumstances. It is a spiritual decision. A quiet partnership with God that whispers, “Not today. Not this time. My story will not end here.”

Even Jesus reminded his disciples in John 16:33, “Take heart. I have overcome the world.” And when people embody that truth, their life becomes a form of rebellion against despair.

Soul Insights

1. Rising is a spiritual act.

People who defy gravity show us that rising is not instinctive, it is intentional. It is choosing courage even when fear feels louder. Their stories remind me that faith and resilience often grow in the same soil, watered by the same tears. Watching them reveals the deeper truth that God empowers ordinary people to live extraordinary lives when they refuse to surrender their purpose.

2. Pain is not the ending, it is the shaping.

When someone survives devastation and still becomes whole, the beauty is not that they avoided pain but that they allowed it to refine them. It is in these stories that I see Jeremiah’s potter’s wheel in real time, where what was broken becomes reshaped through divine hands. Their transformation becomes an invitation for us to stop fearing the parts of life that carve us.

3. Hope is a lantern, not a spotlight.

Hope rarely bursts into a room. It glows. It flickers. It warms enough to keep us moving. The people who inspire me remind me that small hope is still hope, and God often works through the faintest spark. Their lives redefine what it means to walk by faith when the path is barely visible.

4. Resilience is not loud.

The strongest people I’ve witnessed are the ones who do not announce their battles. They simply keep showing up. They remind me that resilience is a quiet strength, shaped by hidden prayers and private victories. Their consistency becomes its own kind of worship, one that honors the God who never left them.

5. Defiance can be holy.

There is something sacred about refusing to let tragedy have the final word. The children in that documentary taught me that holy defiance does not look like anger. It looks like building a life anyway. It looks like becoming a musician after losing a limb. It looks like choosing joy in a world that didn’t protect your childhood. Their courage is theology in motion.

Final Thoughts

The people who defy gravity are not extraordinary because they are unbreakable. They are extraordinary because they rise even when broken. They show us what it means to partner with God in the middle of devastation, to let Him breathe life back into places the world pronounced dead.

Their stories remind me that miracles aren’t always instant. Sometimes they look like slow rebuilding, brave steps, and a heart that refuses to stay buried. The truth is, you and I carry that same capacity. We just forget how powerful we are when we align our spirit with God.

May you remember that today. May you rise a little higher than yesterday.

Your Turn

Where in your life do you feel gravity pulling you down the hardest, and what would it look like to resist it with God’s strength?

Which story of resilience has shaped you the most, and why did it impact your spirit the way it did?

What part of your own story have you underestimated because you forgot how much courage it took to survive it?

Reflect on one moment where you rose despite the odds. Write it down. Name the courage you carried. And then ask God where He is inviting you to rise again.

By the way…

While you’re here, I’d love for you to explore my book 17 Syllables of Me and visit my website, SoulPath Insights.

Thank you for taking the time to read! 🤗

Soul Path Insights