Wow, was all I could think. Once again my breath was taken away at the site of a beautiful waterfall in the Indian jungle. Never would I have thought in all my years I would be here. In this moment. In this place. The most amazing part of it all is that Papa had known since before I was born I was going to end up here at the foot of this waterfall. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would say, “Yes” to the risk of following Him, no matter where it led me.
I had arrived to the falls via a bumpy car ride, driving through the mountains on uneven roads made worse by the rain the night before. I caught myself often times throughout our ride wondering if the car was going to get stuck and or die on the way up. But after about an hour drive, we arrived at a small opening to a path. Unsure of where it went, yet my heart raced within me for the thrill of the unknown. I ventured forth, coming to a clear river filled with small rocks and lush jungle brush lining the way. I had stopped to take some photos and video and as I paused, I heard it; the low thunder of the waterfall. It was calling. I quickly went forward and there it was, in all its beauty, cascading down towards us from the high tree line above. As I started to take more photos of the sites around me, I was told that there was a second waterfall a bit more up the mountain which we would have to hike up to find.
Once again, filled with joy and excitement, I leapt at the chance to go explore deeper into the jungle and up the mountain, for who knew what laid ahead? I started the ascent and realized quickly that it was going to be a risky climb, namely on the way down. In that moment, I was faced with a choice: continue on the journey and take that risk without certainty as to what else laid ahead, or option two, turn around now where I knew it was safe. I thought about this for a moment and realized in my walk with Christ, I often come to these pivotal points where I’ve had to ask myself this very question, “Is this path ahead of me worth the risk, or should I stay where I know its safe?”
I decided to venture forth, quickly learning that shoes would not be helpful, so off they went, too. I got up the rock via a semi-sturdy vine and came to the top of the first waterfall and stood at the face of another, smaller waterfall; beautiful and captivating in its simplicity, it’s water flowing over rocks with ease. I would have been content with staying there and just staring at the water, clear as crystal. Instead, I put my feet in the water, ready to follow the water up to the next, larger waterfall. I took a few steps, only to find myself slipping on the rocks on the riverbed. Some of the locals tried to help by testing the rocks first for me, telling me, “This one, not slippery.” Yet I found myself not trusting them during some of these moments, hesitant to step on the rocks they told me to step on, testing them out for myself before I really did put my full weight on it. I paused and again thought to myself, “How many times in my walk with the Lord have I done this?” Even though He so clearly has given me a place to step He simply just asks me to trust Him. Time and time again I have found it hard, wanting to either test and see if that is truly the place He wants me to step, or trying to find my own path, just as I would with the rocks before me. I’ll admit, I sometimes chose a different rock than the one the locals pointed to and I would slip and often times fall because of my stubbornness. Thankfully though, the locals, just as God does, would be right there without a moments hesitation with a slight smirk on their lips and an, “I told you to step here” kind of look on their face, ever so patient and willing to still love on me even when I displaced my trust.
We eventually made it to the large waterfall I had started the journey in search of. I was half soaked already from the amount of times I had slipped and fallen, but that all fell away as I caught sight of this second waterfall, bigger than the first with water flowing and falling with even more power as it sprayed and crashed into the river below. But, to get to the very top of it, I still had a bit more of a climb in which the locals would have to pull me up. I’m sure my face was one of “you’ve got to be kidding” because one of the men said, “don’t worry we can pull you up, you are not big.” I laughed to myself and said, “Okay then, I’m ready to be pulled up!” My hands reached up to the men and sure enough, they pulled me up with what seemed like ease. I joined the others that were there already and took some photos. We were getting soaked by the mist of the powerful falls and it no longer mattered how many times I had fallen, I had made it.
A short time later, it was time to head back down. “Ha! Right getting back down,” I thought to myself. As I slid back down the rock I was just pulled up onto, I made a decision to trust the locals whole heartedly this time and not step anywhere they didn’t tell me to. So, off we went. It started out a lot smoother as I learned to trust the men ahead of me with where they were telling me to step. Then we came to the hard part with the vine, for the rock face was slippery and there were no foot placements. Holding onto the vine, I said a little prayer, even though I knew if I fell and broke my leg, it would make for a really good story. The men helping us climb down became our physical foot placements; allowing us to put our feet into their hands as they somehow managed to not slip on the rock all at the same time. I found my pride rising in me because I wanted to prove that I could do this without their help, proving that I could “do as the locals do” but Papa oh so gently says, “I have you, just trust me with this step. It’s safe to lean on me for help.” I knew in that instant it would be twice as hard to get down if I didn’t take the help offered, because just as these men were helping me then, God has placed people all throughout my life and at different times in order to walk through certain seasons of life with me. People I can trust and be confident to lean on, knowing they are there to help me; to make the path before me less treacherous and daunting. I decided that I would take their help again and I made it down the trail with no trouble at all.
Arriving safely at the bottom again, I sat for a moment looking around me and thinking, “It was worth the risk.” The lessons I learned along the way, the memories I made, the bruises that were on my knees from falling on rocks, the new friends…they were all worth it. Why? Because a daring adventure begins with risk. Taking a step into the unknown bleeds with passion for life. And as I was so gently reminded that day, God’s path for us is also worth the risk; because I know His nature I don’t have to question His motives. I’ll repeat that again, because I know his nature I don’t have to question his motives.
For His love is worth the risk.
