If you’ve read the Twilight series (or seen the awful movies) you might notice from the title that I had a “Bella” moment. I was doing crazy things and hoping to see someone through those things.
While Bella was searching for the voice of her angry vampire boyfriend telling her not to do dumb stuff after he ran away from her, I was searching for God in a bigger and more powerful way than I had experienced so far in my life.
Before I went to Uganda this past summer, I asked God to expand my comfort zone and make Himself real to me in new, extraordinary, unforgettable ways.
Note to all of you: be careful what you pray for!
God always answers prayers, but not always how we expect. So, sometimes a simple prayer can prove to be a difficult task for you.
Think about when you pray for more patience. God isn’t just going to give you more patience, but instead will give you trying circumstances so you can practice patience. Easy prayer to pray, harder task to practice.
This past weekend, my team (Veracity) traveled from our temporary home in El Tingo to the tourist destination of Banos, Ecuador. We had heard stories of all the adventurous things to do while there and how gorgeous it was, but words never do justice to things like Banos and we were excited to see it for ourselves.
We had to peel open the eyes of a few of my teammates in order to get us out the door at 6 a.m. on Sunday, so the morning started off a little difficult. This can happen with half a team of early-rising “keep-to-the-schedule” people and half a team of “sleep as late as we can” not-at-all-morning people. But, after an apology and a prayer, we were mended and on our way.
After navigating our way through the bus terminals, hopping on and off of three buses, and a final four hour bus ride in a charter bus where we tried to get a little shut-eye to make up for the lack of it the night before due to packing and then early rising, we arrived in Banos.
Getting off the bus, it took a few minutes to get our bearings. We were dropped off alongside a few others buses on the side of a road and immediately had people approaching us from all the shops and booths trying to sell us on their services and products. But we stood our ground and knew that the first things we had to do were:
1) try to find a cheap, not murderer-inhabited hostel to stay for the night
2) get some food in our starving bellies
Don’t worry; we very quickly succeeded in both things!
Then we decided it was time to start the real adventure. After asking questions and pricing some different booths and events, we came to the conclusion to go canyoning down waterfalls.
We pulled and tugged damp wet suits in all directions to conform them to our dry bodies, slipped on some knock-off Keds, and tightened the helmet straps before taking a few photos and heading off to the waterfalls in the back of a small pick-up truck driven by a man with no teeth.
Seems legit.
Climbing up the rocky incline to reach the top of the first waterfall was breath-taking. Literally. Not only was it a steep incline full of uneven boulder-covered ground and plant life taller than I am, leaving us temporarily separated from the front half of the team and resulting in a game of Marco Polo. But it was also gorgeous.
Blazing our own trail alongside some of the biggest waterfalls in Ecuador and looking over the edge knowing that you just climbed a hundred feet and would soon be cascading down it was astonishing.
Although all four of the waterfalls we repelled down were amazing and could have a blog post all of their own, it wasn’t until the very last one that I was literally struck right in the face with God’s amazing power and presence.
On this waterfall, we waited while our guide set up the ropes and anchors beyond where we could see and then, on his word, we had to hook ourselves up and walk backwards at an angle to another spot where our guide was. Once we got there, he hooked us up to another anchor and said, “Just walk back”.
When I faced where he told me to walk, all I could see was about four feet in front of me. It looked like a huge inverse face of a cliff. I could see nothing of what I was about to do and where I was about to go.
Did I have to inverse repel down this cliff? Do we climb down to a ledge? The last one we slid down like a slide; is this like that?
I had no idea of the path that was literally right in front of me. And I was about to walk it backwards, trusting only in the voice of my guide.
I realized how closely I was listening for his voice. Every step I would take would be guided by what he could see that I could not. I trusted his expertise. I trusted his knowledge of what was unknown to me. I listened for his voice before I took each step. I looked to him when the waters rushing inches from my head became too loud and drowned out his voice.
In the midst of walking backwards down a waterfall’s cliff, I found myself asking,
“Do I trust God as much as I trust this man I just met that also holds my life in his hands?”
If God tells me to step right instead of left, am I that apt to listen? I don’t know what metaphorical or emotional cliff I could fall down if I continued left and ignored God’s voice and sometimes I feel as if I didn’t care.
If I wanted to go left, I’d go left, dang it!
So, what would happen if I did the same thing when my waterfall guide said to go right? Why would I step left and risk stepping off the cliff face and face physical danger when I can see it? Why did I think it was any different just because I can’t see the danger when God could?
Psalm 32:8
I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.
What I didn’t know about the final waterfall was that after we climbed down about ten feet of cliff face, we would be dangling free. After that final step where I could feel my feet on the rock, I had nothing anymore.
I was suspended by my waist, sitting in mid-air as my guide held onto my anchor and I lowered myself, foot by foot, down a cascading waterfall. For maybe a hundred feet, I just swiveled my head as fast as it was go, trying to see all that surrounded me. It was something straight out of a South American rainforest picture.
Behind me was a giant rock wall that my teammates stood upon, even though I hadn’t been able to see them for a long time now. In front of me was an entire mountain scape mural; beside me were trees and plants and some small animals coming to the waterfall. Underneath me were enormous jagged rocks with bubbling creeks on both sides and a river flowing from where I was being lowered to.
It was beyond words.
I tried to take in as much as I could as I slowly made my way from the top of the falls to the river down below. I saw a lot but I’m sure I also missed a lot since there was so much there. One thing I’m sure of, though, is that God was in that place.
The next day, Emily and I decided to jump off the highest bridge that you can jump off of in Ecuador. It is almost 350 feet high and is NOT a bungee jump. There is no bungee cord, there is just a climbing rope and some pulley anchors.
We suited up in about three harnesses and walked, helmets in hand, across Banos from our wonderful adventure booth (we used the same fantastic company for all the weekend’s events and were so satisfied!) to the bridge on the outskirts of town.
As soon as Emily looked over the edge, panic crept in. And rightly so. We were on a bridge that seemed to bounce with the blowing wind since we were already at 10,000 feet above sea level and now we were on a fifteen foot wide wood and metal bridge above a river filled with huge, jagged rocks and cliffs all around. If something were to happen to the climbing rope we were suspended from, there would honestly be no chance of survival.
After preparing all the carabineers and harnesses and making sure they were secure, I was guided to the wire-walled edge and shown a step stool. “Go up,” the 20-something year old toothless man commanded.
I was expected to climb the three steps to the cheap plastic step stool and then hike my leg over the other four feet of wire and swing myself over so that my entire body rested on the rail of the edge and a two foot by two foot wood platform hinged onto the rail 350 feet above the river.
No big deal, right?
I was told to stand up and that’s when I questioned for a second what I was doing. I felt my knees shaking as I tried to push myself off sitting on the rail to standing solely on the platform. I swear it took five minutes to do, but as I look at the video I seemed to climb up the edge, swing myself over, sit up on the rail then rise to my feet on the platform effortlessly.
My jump was uneventful, really. I mean it was great and fun, but that’s all it was. Would I do it again? Definitely!
My lesson, however, came after the physical jump. As I dangled there, waiting for the momentum to stop swinging me like a pendulum in a clock so the guy on the bridge could lower me enough for his other toothless, old man friend could throw out a rope for me to catch and then draw me in like a fisherman, I must admit I showboated a bit and really enjoyed myself.
But, after a few swings, I just sat. As I was harnessed in probably a hundred feet above the water, just dangling in the open air of the mountains and the rivers, I was able to take a minute of peace from the harness that was digging into my leg and causing my legs to go numb. Hey, I’d rather have it too tight than too loose! So, I didn’t say anything when he tightened it.
I have no idea how long I just sat suspended in the air, but it felt like half an hour (I know it wasn’t that long though!). During that time I was able to seriously just gawk at the beautiful creation before me. Sure lots of people could come and stand on the bridge and have a similar view, but I felt uninhibited in viewing it. I know I was hanging from a rope in harnesses and a helmet, but I felt like I was floating between boundaries.
I wasn’t on the river’s level and I wasn’t on the bridge’s level; I was somewhere in between. I could see up the mountains and river forever in the one direction, then I’d swing the other way and could see intricate cliffs and dwellings carved from the rocks on the other. There were naturally-formed almost steps that look like I could just walk up the side, although I know that the proportion would have had to been 20 feet between each one since I could see them so well from where I was.
I fell in love with the man-made history in Scotland. I fell in love with the people in Uganda. And here, in Ecuador, I have fallen head over heels in love with the natural beauty that God took the time to create.
I have taken so many pictures of things I never do: flowers, trees, mountains, rivers, waterways, night skies, sunrises, and sunsets. They are all things I have always loved, but I have always thought they are too “normal” to capture. I mean, honestly, how many people have sunset pictures or close-ups of flowers?!
Boring.
However, in Ecuador, God is showing me Himself in ways I was never able to comprehend before. God created all of this for us because He loves us.
God is in every mountain, every river, every waterfall, every flower bloom, every sunrise and every night sky.
God’s presence is all around us; we just have to take the time to open our eyes and breathe in order to see it.
