Approaching the high adventure solo challenge, I surveyed the situation
at hand and knew at once that something was not quite right. The middle school
kids who were supposed to be climbing into harnesses and strapping on helmets to
take their turn climbing up the 20-foot pole were sitting off to the side.
Glancing toward the top of the pole, I saw one of the middle school boys in a
squat position, hands clutching his knees, face twisted in fear and
concentration.
I walked up to my coworker who was belaying for the poor kid whom I’ll
call Jeff, and I asked him how long Jeff had been on top of the solo challenge.
It is not uncommon for people to climb up the pole quickly, get on top and then
freeze, too scared to jump off. At this point in time, I was told that Jeff had
been atop the pole for about an hour.
This was already an impressive feat. Not only was it extremely hot, but
Jeff was also squatting, too scared to stand up straight for fear of losing his
balance. The kid had some legs of steel to endure that position for an hour.
Despite the encouragement and cheers from his fellow campers and from the
SpringHill staff present, Jeff was unwilling to make the leap.
The nerve-wracking thing about the solo challenge is that once someone
reaches the top, the only way to get down is to jump. Each camper is harnessed
in, of course, so after the jump, the camper hangs from the harness as the
belayer slowly lets them down. So logically, there should be no fear of getting
hurt or falling.
One thing I found interesting as I would belay campers is that
many of them would ask the same exact question: “If I fall, will you catch me?”
My answer was always the same as I replied with, “Yes, you can trust me. I am
not letting go of this rope and, even if you fall, even when you jump, I will
never let go.” At this point, some of them would close their eyes and jump.
Others, however, would hear my words, but the shaky pole under their feet and
the ground so far beneath them proved too much, and they gave into their fears
and would not budge.
I never understood why they would rather stand atop that pole for long
stretches of time, staring at the distance between them and solid ground,
knowing that the only way was to trust me and jump. I never understood until I
looked at it from another perspective.
I have been learning a lot about prayer recently. There are some major
steps that I have to take soon, and I have been praying for God to give me
wisdom and to reveal to me how he wants me to take these steps. These are some
scary steps. Steps such as leaving the country for three weeks and figuring out
what to do after graduation. Until now, the adrenaline has kept me moving. Just
like my campers, I have raced to the top of the pole. But now that I am at the
top, the only thing to do is take that leap and trust that God is going to
catch me.
Staring into the future is like staring over the top of that pole. It
is intimidating, and I know that on my own I would never make it. But God is
right there, telling me, “Yes, you can trust me. I am not letting go of this
rope and, even if you fall, even when you jump, I will never let go.” And so
now the choice is mine. Do I trust him and jump, believing that he is holding
onto me, or do I tremble at the top of the pole, letting the fear of failure
and potential hurt hold me back?
Jeff squatted on top of that pole for two solid hours. By the time he
was on the ground again, his face was red from tears, sweat and sunburn. My
coworker had his own sunburn, as well as some impressive blisters from holding
the rope steady for two hours. But he never let go.
I jumped off of my pole recently, and the relief was immediate. God has
proven his faithfulness again and again, and I am overwhelmed by it all. I
understand how easy it is to let fear take hold and paralyze any action or
trust, but do not let that take over and consume, or you will never know what
it feels like to have your feet on solid ground.
