“I love the recklessness of faith. First you leap, and then you grow wings.”
William Sloane Coffin
William Sloane Coffin
God has a way of taking a series of seemingly singular and insignificant events and tying them together in a way that glorifies Him and leaves me speechless and in awe. I work at Howard Street Charter School. A middle school in Salem that strives to provide it's students with unique opportunities to grow in a variety of ways: as students, as individual people, and as integral members of a community. One of the things that we teach is taking a responsible risk, trying something that is outside of their comfort zone. A piece of this is taking our eighth grade students to the Salem Ropes Course at the YWAM base at the beginning of each year. The YWAM base is beautiful, with stunning trees and wilderness that provide a feeling that we have escaped the city; an oasis from the day-to-day life in Salem. At the ropes course each student has to trust their life into the hands of their classmates. As they are climbing trees, or working through an obstacle course twenty feet in the air each student comes to the end of themselves. Once they've reached the end of themselves they realize that they can go just a little bit further. This is the story of my walk with Jesus, I am constantly coming to the end of myself and instead of facing failure and isolation I find myself staring into the face of my savior as He gently guides my steps and takes me to places that should be impossible, but are very possible with God. Here's the catch, God doesn't force us to take those steps. He is right there calling us to take the leap, but we get to make the choice. Do I really believe that God has my best? Do I believe that God will meet me when I've taken that step past what I know, past what I'm capable of? I experienced this in a very real way this week at the YWAM base.
For our last event of the day we were led up a series of steps. As we climbed higher we entered deeper and deeper into the woods. At the top of the stairs there was a wooden platform standing at least twenty feet high. The platform looked awkward against all of the untamed natural beauty surrounding it. This platform leads to a swing that sends you soaring into the trees around it. You cannot experience the rush of swinging through the air surrounded by God's creation without taking the plunge from the platform into thin air, the only thing keeping you from plummeting to the ground below is a cable attached to the harness that you are wearing. I watched as student after student sat on the edge of the platform and eventually fell off of the side to go soaring through the air. The time came for me to climb the log that would bring me to the top. I had decided that if I was going to do this I was going to do this all the way. I wasn't going to sit on the edge and simply fall. I was going to step off of the platform, step into thin air, step into the unknown where my feet cannot hold me, step where I am forced to trust. I received my directions:
"put your hands through the loops and hold onto the rope like this and then you can go." I put my hands through the loops and clenched the rope attached to the cable that I was about to trust with my life.
"Like this?"
"Yes."
"So I can go?"
"Yes."
"I can go whenever?"
"Yes."
"I can just step off of the platform?"
"Yes."
For our last event of the day we were led up a series of steps. As we climbed higher we entered deeper and deeper into the woods. At the top of the stairs there was a wooden platform standing at least twenty feet high. The platform looked awkward against all of the untamed natural beauty surrounding it. This platform leads to a swing that sends you soaring into the trees around it. You cannot experience the rush of swinging through the air surrounded by God's creation without taking the plunge from the platform into thin air, the only thing keeping you from plummeting to the ground below is a cable attached to the harness that you are wearing. I watched as student after student sat on the edge of the platform and eventually fell off of the side to go soaring through the air. The time came for me to climb the log that would bring me to the top. I had decided that if I was going to do this I was going to do this all the way. I wasn't going to sit on the edge and simply fall. I was going to step off of the platform, step into thin air, step into the unknown where my feet cannot hold me, step where I am forced to trust. I received my directions:
"put your hands through the loops and hold onto the rope like this and then you can go." I put my hands through the loops and clenched the rope attached to the cable that I was about to trust with my life.
"Like this?"
"Yes."
"So I can go?"
"Yes."
"I can go whenever?"
"Yes."
"I can just step off of the platform?"
"Yes."
At this point I realized that there was no other way that I could ask the question. It was time to go, but my mind was having a hard time undoing all that I had learned from my twenty-five years of life. I am supposed to stay away from edges, I could get hurt. There was literally no next step to take, yet it was time to take the next step. I wasn't being pushed, I wasn't sitting on the edge and scooting until I fell, I simply needed to take a step. Suddenly walking wasn't so easy anymore. I have been walking most of my life, and I honestly don't put a whole lot of thought into it, I just do it, but this time I was stepping into the unknown and suddenly a single step became an insurmountable task. My heart was racing, my body was shaking uncontrollably and everything within me was fighting the next step, but then I did it. I stepped into nothing, I stepped on empty air, and just as my twenty-five years of experience had told me I would, I began to fall.
Sometimes taking a step in faith looks a lot like failure at first. I took the risk, I stepped into air, I faced my fear, and I ended up falling just like I was afraid I would. Then I came to the end of my rope. As I reached the end of my rope my harness yanked me out of my free fall and I was soaring, gravity had lost it's hold and I was flying. I could feel the wind rushing past me as I soared through the trees. When I was falling I couldn't exactly undo what I had done and I certainly couldn't quit, but sometimes taking a leap of faith isn't a single step, sometimes it's a series of steps. It often looks like God saying
"Step here my daughter."
"Step here my son."
Only after the step is taken nothing happens, a step that seems so hard to take leads to God saying
"Now step here, and then here, and then here."
All of the sudden we don't know where we are, and something that we thought was going to be a quick leap of faith becomes a journey into the unknown. Now nothing is familiar and we feel lost. There are many different ways to respond to this: maybe we return to what we know, maybe we try to blaze our own trail through the fog, maybe we give up and quit living all together, or maybe we continue to have faith that the God who led us into the midst of this has a plan and will guide us through. I don't know about you guys, but my initial response to feeling lost and alone is to quit and hide under the covers. It's warm in my bed, and I know that I'll be safe. When I've quit, my decisions become about me. Instead of taking the steps that I know that I am supposed to take I seek comfort. Sin that I thought was gone creeps back into my life and before I know it the covers that seemed so safe and warm become a trap as I become entangled in the blankets. I am back to being limited by my weakness, when before my weakness was an opportunity for God to glorify his strength. This has been the last couple of months of my life without me really realizing what was happening. The wonderful thing is that God is always there. He is always calling us back to him, back into a life that is beyond ourselves, a life of looking into the eyes of our savior as he guides each step. It won't be without trial, but it won't be without joy either. Sometimes it looks like waiting, but He is always with us through the waiting and the disbelief. It almost always looks entirely different than we expect, but that's what happens when we step into the unknown, and it's usually above and beyond what we could imagine. He is always with us, and we will always find Him at the end of our rope. We simple need to continue taking each step of faith as He paves the way before us.
Sometimes taking a step in faith looks a lot like failure at first. I took the risk, I stepped into air, I faced my fear, and I ended up falling just like I was afraid I would. Then I came to the end of my rope. As I reached the end of my rope my harness yanked me out of my free fall and I was soaring, gravity had lost it's hold and I was flying. I could feel the wind rushing past me as I soared through the trees. When I was falling I couldn't exactly undo what I had done and I certainly couldn't quit, but sometimes taking a leap of faith isn't a single step, sometimes it's a series of steps. It often looks like God saying
"Step here my daughter."
"Step here my son."
Only after the step is taken nothing happens, a step that seems so hard to take leads to God saying
"Now step here, and then here, and then here."
All of the sudden we don't know where we are, and something that we thought was going to be a quick leap of faith becomes a journey into the unknown. Now nothing is familiar and we feel lost. There are many different ways to respond to this: maybe we return to what we know, maybe we try to blaze our own trail through the fog, maybe we give up and quit living all together, or maybe we continue to have faith that the God who led us into the midst of this has a plan and will guide us through. I don't know about you guys, but my initial response to feeling lost and alone is to quit and hide under the covers. It's warm in my bed, and I know that I'll be safe. When I've quit, my decisions become about me. Instead of taking the steps that I know that I am supposed to take I seek comfort. Sin that I thought was gone creeps back into my life and before I know it the covers that seemed so safe and warm become a trap as I become entangled in the blankets. I am back to being limited by my weakness, when before my weakness was an opportunity for God to glorify his strength. This has been the last couple of months of my life without me really realizing what was happening. The wonderful thing is that God is always there. He is always calling us back to him, back into a life that is beyond ourselves, a life of looking into the eyes of our savior as he guides each step. It won't be without trial, but it won't be without joy either. Sometimes it looks like waiting, but He is always with us through the waiting and the disbelief. It almost always looks entirely different than we expect, but that's what happens when we step into the unknown, and it's usually above and beyond what we could imagine. He is always with us, and we will always find Him at the end of our rope. We simple need to continue taking each step of faith as He paves the way before us.
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