There is this overwhelming prodding that begins any time the topography changes from suburbia sidewalk to well, anything else. I become all thing Bear Grylls and absolutely must climb, hike, float, ride, you get it. Usually it's a white pine or a two track in the woods. But this time the 'anything else' happened to be a mountain canyon. I don't even like commercials of mountain climbers so the prodding was easy to ignore...on my first visit. I returned early two days later when light was was low on the horizon and mountain air was sharp. Three of us tightened our backpacks and set off in different directions. I didn't think or plan or look even. I just started climbing. I loved the pace and the stretch and especially the view. I prayed as I climbed but going up was pretty easy.
I found my ledge and rested and breathed and prepared for my descent. Then something completely normal happened. Fear. I began thinking through all the different ways to get down from being air lifted to a rappelling ranger rescue. But instead began my descent on my stomach. I held on at times by my finger tips, slid slowly without complete control. When I stopped for too long, I was paralyzed. My body froze. Panic would close in. Then I'd just move, even laterally if necessary. I just moved. But it wasn't my strength or skill and certainly not my mental fortitude that got me off that rock. It was Jesus. Simply Jesus. It was he who made my steps sure. He who calmed me, lead me - every step, lead me. Fear is powerful. I felt it, really felt it, for the first time. So after I stepped off the last rock, I ran. I couldn't help it. The joy and awareness of experiencing something real, something divine rushed through me, and all I could do was run.
Now I'm back to a breathable elevation and concrete as far as the eye can see, but it's funny. On the other side of the continent, I find myself on that same rock. A mountain of fear. The real kind. Not the dark or did I forget to lock the doors kind. Real, paralyzing, freeze-in-my-tracks fear. But I have one who is making my steps sure. Showing me firm places, strong grips. And that fear, it threatens. But Jesus speaks to it, and well, I move. With him, I just move.
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