It wasn’t quite a tightrope, but it sure felt like it. In reality, it was a tree trunk.
We were hiking two and a half miles into the Smoky Mountains to a magnificent waterfall. But there were areas where we had to walk across tree “bridges” in order to cross the water. In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I am terrified of heights. Really, I think the fear is not so much of heights as it is of falling.
When we made it to the first tree, there were people on the other side waiting for us to cross. My three children practically skipped across. My husband walked as sure-footed as if he were on solid ground. Then there was me. I went last. I tried to look normal, but my heart was pounding, and I walked slowly as I clung to the handrail. My children were taunting me: Mom, are you scared? Come on, Mom! Of course, I made it across just fine, in addition to the other two trees, as well as all three on the return trip out of the forrest. But fear was a factor every single time.
I met with my counselor yesterday morning. We discussed this painful healing process I’m experiencing. She had a great analogy. She described it as Jesus carrying me across a very skinny bridge into the wilderness where he can intimately heal me. The journey to the wilderness is frightening to me. I’m not used to letting anyone carry me. I do things on my own. I don’t trust easily. I’m afraid of falling.
I immediately thought of those tree “bridges” in the Smokies…how I feared crossing them every time. Those same literal, physical fears from that hike apply to this spiritual experience. I want something to cling to, but God has removed all my “handrails.” All I have left to cling to is Him. I know that should be reassuring, but for someone who’s always looked for safety in the approval of others and in doing the right thing, this is unfamiliar territory. I’m trying to appear normal, but my heart is pounding.
Fear outweighs my faith right now.
I can’t see the other side. I’m not sure I want to. So, maybe I bury my face into the chest of the One who carries me and cling to the promise He keeps presenting me: He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3
