Up

I am afraid of heights. This isn’t an unusual fear to many people. We were created without wings, to be solidly planted on the ground, yet so many of us forget this as we board planes, ride roller coasters and Ferris Wheels, and climb trees and towers.

Our rock climbing tower is where I spend a lot of my time during the retreat season and although I can easily tie the correct knots, help people with helmets and harnesses and belay, I had yet to actually climb to the top and zip down.

I would stand at the bottom belaying others and telling them where to put their feet and hands, giving advice and shouting encouragement and now I knew it was time to do it myself.

As I stand there in my harness and helmet I start to feel myself wanting to back out. I run through my list of excuses but force myself to throw them out before they can set up camp in my head. I am determined.

I get clipped in and am ready to climb. I easily scale the first half of the wall then find myself in awkward places as I try to just make it to the top of the incline. I slip a few times and my heart is ferociously pumping bloods to my faint limbs.

I swing my knee onto the top of the incline and hoist myself up to a standing position. Then, I make a mistake. I look down and realize how high I am. I look up at my friend, Jen telling her I am done, I can’t do this.

And she ignores my words. And she is pointing out rocks for me. This one is perfect for your hand, put your foot here. I look up at her and know she has not given me a reason not to trust her and I want to do this for her.

I erase the distance between me and the ground.

I put my foot onto a rock and push up on my legs, like I’m always advising people to do.  I look only up, only into Jen’s beautiful face and loving smile and soon I am on top of the tower and breathing heavily on my hands and knees.

Jen is praising me and I am lost somewhere between laughing and crying and throwing up.

I feel the fear once more as I am about to step out onto the zip platform, but I don’t let myself think about it too much. I sit down at the edge and close my eyes after Nathan responds to my “On zip?” with a “Zip on!” Leaning forward into a free fall before feeling the rope catch I hear my own terrified and then joyful screams escape me as I am washed with exhilaration.

As I am walking back up to the tower after Nathan unhooks me from the zip line, I realize that although I may never get to the point where I feel undaunted by heights doesn’t have to mean I cannot move up and up and up.

Sure, it’s a simple truth, that we can do things in spite of fear, that trusting our Creator with our entire lives and futures isn’t a new idea. It’s the kindergarten of faith but it still stands as naturally as we do on solid ground.