Over the last weekend, I had the opportunity to go on a 4 day outdoor climbing trip.
Let me preface… when I started climbing I was scared of heights. Like really scared of heights. I used to get to the top of the wall and refuse to let go because I felt safer holding on to the top of the wall for dear life than I felt letting go so that I could be lowered to the ground where its really safe. Looking back, this is ridiculous! Why in the world would I rather stay where its scary and dangerous.
So… I don't know why I thought that just because I had overcome my fear heights inside the gym that this would transfer to outside where the rocks are real and really, really tall. Needless to say, when I saw my first climb, I freaked out. It was 65 ft tall and called The Green Goblin. My insides turned to mush. My pulse started to race and my palms got sweaty. I tried taking deep breaths and talking myself out of being scared. I got so far as to put on my brave face and tried smiling.
Yes, that is my brave face. At this point, I've got my harness on with some quick draws hooked on to the belt. I'm wearing shoes designed for climbing and I've got a chalk bag fastened around my waist. Somehow, none of this was reassuring for me. Behind my brave face was me trying not to cry. Because crying is what I do when I'm scared. And I was incredibly scared, but I sucked it and prepared to climb. And climb I did.
Until…. I lost my focus and, once again, started to freak out. Then I did what any rational human being would do- I froze and held on for dear life (as I'm doing in the picture above). As long as I was still and not looking down, then I could calm myself down. Then, out of my fear, I hear a voice below me. The voice is strong and reassuring. It is telling me that I am safe and that I can continue on. Just step up. That is all that needs to be done. And, wouldn't you know it, he was right. All I had to do was trust and continue on.
This is not to say that I didn't freak out again over the weekend; I surely did. But I found that, with that voice reassuring me, I could climb with confidence. Before long, I was half way up a mountain and ready to make it to the top. However, for me, the best part about getting to the top is being able to come down. My feet are solid on the ground and my heart rate has just about returned to normal.
Funny how I had to be on the side of a mountain to learn a little lesson in trust. First remember what you have put your trust in. While climbing, my trust was in my gear and my belay. The same applies in the Christian life; we are given the tools for survival. God has provided us with His Word and his protection. I am reminded of the Armor of God. We have been given all of these pieces to equip us for our journey- to get us up the mountain. And then there is my belay. For life, God is our belay. He is at the end of our rope. He is always there and will never let go. Your belay is there to catch you when you fall and make sure that you are safe is any situation while on the mountain. That belay not only protects me but also encourages me and provides instruction. On the mountain, I had an amazing belay. In life, my belay is perfect.
Several times on the mountain, I had moments of absolute terror. Nothing scares me more than heights and falling. I would find a spot on the mountain that I felt was safe and hold on for dear life. At this point, I did not trust. I put more trust in my fear than anything else. It is easy to read in the Bible that nothing will seperate us from the love of God…. not heights…. not heights…. not heights…. not heights. It is easy to read this but hard to remember when I was actually really high up. But, it's true. Nothing can seperate us from God's love. Fear can make us forget but it doesn't make it not true.
Nothing can seperate us from the love of God!
