…and after I did, everything else seemed easy. Waaay less treacherous. All the other activities I’d been afraid of doing, after that moment, felt like nothing. I wasn’t afraid anymore. That tight rope somehow rose the bar of what I considered ominous. It also rose the bar for what I thought I could bear/handle.
Besides the obvious thoughts of “OMG WHY DID I COME HERE, OMG PLEASE DON’T FALL, DON’T CRY DON’T CRY DON’T CRY”, I somehow stepped into this calm and I began, while crossing that very high very scary very high skinny piece of cable, I began to think about Jesus. Not just because I was terrified and without a doubt, probably had a thought that I was gonna fall to my death. No, I thought about Jesus because while I was crossing I wanted to somehow relate my experience in that moment to how much I constantly need him.
While trying not to cry. I slipped into this calm thinking about him. Thanking him. For being everything I would ever need. For holding me up. For keeping me from danger. For preserving me. For preserving my life. In him.
I’d be lying if I said walking that tight rope was fun. It was far from it. But it was memorable. I think I kind of leapt for the platform at the end. I wanted off. Let me give you a close up of how it was.
First of all, your way up in the top of a tree on a platform that sways, all the way up in the high tree tops you just zip lined to from another high platform way up in the tree tops. Then you see this one piece of cable and some seemingly haphazardly placed ropes of various sizes hanging overhead. Some have knots, some don’t. So forget about those ropes being much support. You sit on the edge of the high up in the tree top platform. Step onto the cable. Reach for the first rope and try to grab a hold of the other rope that’s atleast a whole arms length away. You can only slide across because lifting you feet off the cable means it’ll begin to bounce. You don’t want bounce! Some pieces of rope were shorter than some and further away than some. So it’s like a moment of mini heart attacks every time you realize you’ll have to kind of leap for the next piece of rope and somehow convince yourself to let go of the one behind you. All without being tempted to step across as opposed to sliding your feet across, permitted by the nature of it to only face one direction. While high up off the ground on a nice day with a fresh breeze, nice sunlight through the tree tops; so that your body can be found easily once you plummet to your death. It wasn’t fun.
How I found time to be at peace and be thankful was beyond me. But I did. And that’s what made it memorable. It’s as though I stopped to envision myself in difficult times when I felt like, one wrong move, and it would be over for me. Or when I felt trapped by my decisions or lack thereof. Or just overwhelmed. Or fearful or lingering in some form of doubt. It’s as though I transcended into a lesson. That God is a very present help in times of trouble. That I should rejoice in the Lord always. That I should pray without ceasing, all the while believing what I’m praying for/about and already being thankful for whatever response Jesus provides. That while I should be distracted by all the impending dangers in the situation and while I should be overwhelmed by all the occurrences and while I should be drowning. It makes a better life if I shifted my perspective and saw it through his eyes.
When I first stepped onto the cable I asked to be allowed to turn back. The tears welled up. It seemed impossible and it seemed too great a request of me. It seemed too hard a challenge and too scary an experience. But I did it. Not because I coached myself across. Not because the people around cheered me on. I made it because my perspective shifted along the way.
If I can see myself how God sees me and if I can see people how God sees them and if I can see situations and every day of my life through the eyes of God, I can surely do all things through Christ who strengthens me. From that perspective my words change. I can only speak from a place of victory and gratitude and love and compassion. I can only be at peace even in turmoil. I can love through offense. I can love through pain. I can win when everything set up and set in motion says I should lose.
That’s where my mind went. My mind in terror was lost in Christ. I essentially lost my mind on a tight rope and saw Jesus. I saw how he can keep me. I saw how he is able to protect me. I saw how I can trust him and surrender my fears to him. I saw how he would
put his angels in charge of you to protect you wherever you go. They will hold you up with their hands to keep you from hurting your feet on the stones.
April 30, 2016.
Psalm 91:11-12 GNT