I tugged at the straps on the harness. I wanted it to be as tight as possible. I pulled at the one for my right leg, then my left, and proceeded to my waist. If they got any tighter, I would have lost circulation. After I felt mildly secure in my climbing apparatus, I crawled over the handrail to a support truss and began walking toward the north end of the bridge.
The skin on my bare chest jumped as my heart pounded behind my ribs. My mouth was dry, and all I could do was look down at the Snake River, forty-five feet beneath me. I walked until the rope attached to my harness was tight, then I leaned, putting all my weight on it, making sure that there was no slack. A few deep breaths, and I sailed over the edge.
I don’t know how I managed to keep my eyes open, but I stared at the the slow-moving water, which happened to be approaching at a scary speed. Closer and closer it came, being horizontal in the air made it feel more threatening than if I had dove straight in. My legs flailed as I swiped at the water just as the rope attached to my waist swung me up away from the water. All I got was a little splash.
I panicked a second time as I flew up toward the underside of the bridge and got close enough to touch it. I was convinced that I didn’t die in the water simply because I was supposed to die when I hit my head on the bridge. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. This was pendulum jumping, and it was my first time doing it.
God is so inconvenient sometimes. Tonight, He decided to show me somethings about myself, when I was trying to get all the homework that I have done. It’s good, and I obviously needed it, but I still have so much to do. (Blogging IS one of them, but at the same time, the priority level isn’t the same, yet here I am.) Anyways, God pointed out to me tonight that I have a lot of fear, and it’s impacting my living.
Gross, confession time! Nobody wants to hear awkward dirt, only funny stuff like, I wanted to stab so and so when they said such and such. That’s a safe confession, because then nobody looks at you sideways and wonders what else is wrong with you, unless they’re a religious fool who can’t handle a death threat, that’s another topic though . . .
Like the rest of the world, I don’t like to share my flaws. Understand though, that when we let that guard down and allow people to see just how real we are, ministry happens. They feel free to share their dirt and all that, and we can seek God, and honestly not feel so alone. We allow flaws to isolate us. maybe not literally, but how often do people think they’re the “only one”? I refuse to follow people who act like they’re perfect, because I know they’re full of crap.
Anyways, I have just let a fear of failure dictate a lot of my decisions and feelings for the past year, and it’s unfortunate. I didn’t always have this problem, as I think that I’ve made some pretty wild choices in the past, but lately, I think I’ve been playing it safe, and it makes me a little sad. I have to learn to let go, in a manner similar to what I experienced when I jumped off that bridge. I knew that I had safety gear and that I wouldn’t die, but it was still scary to fall like that. Falling gave me a story to tell though, so what complaints do I have, and why is it so hard to live life like that all the time?
