Years ago I travelled with a big group of friends to Orcas Island to go camping. In the quintessential Washington-Pacific Northwest fashion, we all boarded a ferry and sailed through the rocky forested San Juan Islands. It was one of those weekends trips I’ll always remember, sunsets, s’mores, and 12 of us crammed in the pack of a pickup truck.
There is a lake on Orcas Island with big cliffs on one side. On one of the days our group decided to go for a little hike to the top of the cliffs to jump off. Even though it’s not true, I like to think that I’m fearless. But as we hiked around the lake up to the tallest cliffs, some instinctual fear bubbled over in me. Our group stood on the top of the 55ft and 65 ft cliffs looking over the edge, calculating the risks to life and limb. Good-looking Gary was the first to plummet off the highest cliff, with a running start so he could clear a a low hanging tree half-way down the cliff’s edge. Next the other brave boys started jumping off the top of the lower 55 ft cliff. One by one they pencil dived off in their shoes. Next the bold gals took their turn disappearing off the edge into the water below. I started pacing up and down the trail, tears welling up in my eyes. Even the most cautious lady in our group Danielle Shelman took the plunge. I couldn’t believe it.
Standing on the edge of the cliff was the definition of impending doom. My gut was wrenched. My hands were trembling. I pleaded irrationally for my friends not to jump. At the same time I was mortified for my desperate behavior in from of my friends. I was beyond terrified that all my friends were going to jump off the cliff, hit the water hard, and get really hurt. But there also a part of me that wanted to be cool and brave and jump off too. But I could not overcome my fear. And I did not jump off the cliff that day.
Let me say this: fear is not irrational but sometimes it is, but sometimes it’s not, but sometimes you get yourself all spun up and you don’t even why you’re so afraid but you just are. There are a bunch of places in the bible on the topic of being fearful. One story in particular is when the disciples had finished ministry for the day. Jesus, needing some introvert time, sends the disciples off in a boat to cross the lake. Since Jesus is Jesus, he decides to catch up with his friends a bit later, and he takes a short cut to the boat walking out across the water. All the disciples freak out because they are witnessing this terrifying miracle, a person walking on top of the water! Peter, in a moment of bravery, asks Jesus if he can come out and join him. And Jesus calls Peter out on the water with just one word: “come.” But as Peter walks out on the water, he sees the storm and becomes afraid. Peter stops acknowledging God before him and is overcome by his fear. (See March 14:22-33). While Peter initially and responded to the call to come, the world around him pulls his focus away from God.
And I think that’s just it. In order not to be ruled by fear we have to keep acknowledging God in front of us. Because fear is a storm. Fear is flashy, dramatic, and it steals our focus. Fear is this beautiful instinctual emotion created to inform us of danger and hopefully keep us alive. But emotions were never designed to drive us. I believe I could tell 1,000 different stories of the folly of letting emotions be the driving factor of decision-making, but I won’t. Because I think we’ve all been there, we’ve all let our emotions take the wheel and have experienced the wreckage.
Going back to cliff jumping on Orcas Island. In the literal sense, standing on the cliff watching my friends possibly plummet to their death, I maintain that I wasn’t acting that irrational since all the jumpers were severely bruised afterward. But I tell you this story of about cliff jumping because the feeling I felt standing on the edge of cliff, I’ve been feeling this same way since the moment I committed to the World Race. I am totally losing my mind.
I’ve been asking myself, “why are you so afraid?” But my psyche just whispers frantically back to me, “I don’t know.” And maybe the answer is too overwhelming. Irregardless, for the last few months I’ve sat upright in bed at 3am, clutching my pillow, tears streaming down, asking myself, “why did I say yes to going on the World Race?!”
The path ahead is unknown. And similar to that day on Orcas Island, I’m standing metaphorically on the edge of a cliff and all I want to cling to a tree in the fetal position. I do not want to see the cliff, I do not want to see jump off, and I do not want to entertain the idea of jumping myself.
I bet you were thinking that at the end of this blog I was going to tell you I became brave, owned my fears, and I’m fine now. Nope. I’m not going to tell you that in Part 1 of this blog or Part 2 for that matter! What I will tell you is fear is a complicated thing. What Peter did when he became afraid is he stopped acknowledging the all powerful God in front of him. Peter got distracted and sucked away to the point where he started to literally drown.
So how does the story with Peter end? The scripture says when Peter cries out in fear Jesus “immediately” reaches out for him. Its then when God says to Peter, “why did you doubt?” The tone I imagine Jesus has is a gentle rebuke, reminding Peter their relationship is strong and secure in Him. I truly believe Jesus empathized with Peter’s fear but he urged Peter to grow to be better and stronger too.
In this moment I am standing on the edge of *metaphorical* cliff. Its not my time to jump yet, but that time is coming soon. And I am freaking out. Because I know I’m going to dive into this new adventure ahead.
