Have you ever stood at the edge of a cliff and peered over the edge? Even if you’re not afraid of heights, your heart starts to race a little. Your mind inadvertently starts to imagine all the possible ways you could meet your untimely end. What if a giant bird swoops at you causing you to fall off balance over the edge? What if there is an unseen crack and my weight causes the entire cliff to break off? What if I trip over this pebble and hit my head on a jagged rock?
Fear is crippling. It tells us that the risk of getting hurt is too great, we aren’t good enough, and keeps us from living to our fullest potential. If we gave into fear every time we faced a scary situation, we would tear ourselves apart.
On Monday, my team and some of the workers at Agape Home went to Bua Tong Falls (Sticky Falls). The falls’ exposed limestone creates enough grip that people can climb up and down the falls without aid. After about 20 minutes of walking (and occasionally slipping) down the three levels, we reached a pool. We watched people climb the viney walls surrounding the pool to swing from a vine into the pool. Children and adults, alike, took their turns on the vines.
I saw a young girl sitting off to the side of the pool. All of her friends were waiting in line, except for her. I saw some of my childhood-self in her; she was a cute and a little chubby. I joined her on her perch and asked if she wanted to jump. She didn’t know any English, so I pretty much waved my arms around and used hand signs. She smiled shyly and nodded.
I tried to encourage her to go, but she shook her head. She gazed pensively at the top ledge. I understood immediately. She was afraid. Not that there was anything wrong with that. If you didn’t let go in time, you could smash into a wall of vines and rock. Ouch.
I could almost physically see the internal battle in this girl’s mind. She wanted to go, but the risk for pain was great. So I did the only thing I could do. I got in the water first.
I jumped into the chest-deep waters and held my hand out to her. “I’ll do it with you.” Her small smile grew and she took my hand. When she hit the water, the realization of what she was about to do hit her. The water was deep and cold. I could swim just fine, but I’m also 5’7”. She was barely 4’5”. She struggled to keep her head above the surface. She cried out in fear.
“I’m still with you,” I reassured her. She blinked the water out of her eyes and nodded. I guided her to the rock and vine wall so she would have something to cling to. We reached the vines and tree roots we would have to climb to get to the top. I went ahead of her to show her where to place her feet and grab with her hands. She followed me up the first vine but couldn’t switch to the second vine. They were a little far apart, but still manageable for her size. She clung to the vine and cried out again. I turned to her and told her to wait there. “It’s not as scary as you think. Let me show you.”
I monkey-climbed the rest of the way on my own and reached the ledge. I will admit it was higher up than it looked from below. But this girl was depending on me. I gripped the vine and jumped. Four seconds later I dropped and crashed into the water’s surface. Luckily, I timed my drop right and fell into deep enough water. I broke the surface and smiled at the girl waiting for me. “See, you can do it, too.”
Watching me jump gave her courage to complete her mission. I swam over to her to help her again climb the vines. She didn’t go all the way up to the ledge, but she did jump from the halfway point.
Then she did it again.
Then she did it without my help.
With each jump, she became more bold. Was the risk of getting hurt still present? Yes. But she realized that the joy of jumping was worth the risk. If she gave into that fear, she would never know the thrill of falling through the air and crashing into the water.
Our lives are full of scary moments, but God is always there with us. He takes our hand and walks with us. When we cry out in fear, He reassures us that He is and always will be with us. He teaches us to fall so that when we land, we have more courage to jump again.
