I'd really love to do a bungee jump. The thrill, the excitement, and the adrenaline rush really appeals to me.
But when it actually comes to it, the idea of physically jumping gives me this sick feeling right in the deepest, darkest depths of me.
A whole year, I've been sorting, planning, fund-raising, getting ready, thinking about, and looking forward to going out to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip. But here I am 3 days before, and the enormity of physically jumping has suddenly hit me. That sick feeling of butterflies has appeared right deep down, and I can feel it churning me up. These are big butterflies, I've had this feeling before, and it is hard to conquer.
I move to the edge of the platform, I'm all strapped in, I've done all the practises. The harness is tight around me, and as I shuffle over, stepping really slowly and really carefully the butterflies are really churning up, they feel like a herd of elephants. I'm forcing myself towards the edge, trying not to think about the huge drop below, battling with my mind, trying to concentrate on the instructions I've been given and what the man is saying to me. As I step closer and closer it is all I can do to just keep standing.
In the end I did it, I stepped off the edge and abseiled down.
This has happened more than once, and I just have kept battling through, and over time I am conquering my fear of heights. I had to start small, and increase the size, and its working...and one day I'll do that bungee jump!
And here the feeling is again, not because I'm about to step off a platform elevated high in the sky, but because I'm about to fly to the other side of the world, I'm about to see things that I find hard to imagine, I'm about to do the biggest thing I have ever done. The scariest thing of all is that this is all totally new to me, there is not much about this trip that I am familiar with, and I find that scary! I am edging towards it, and the drop looks scarier and scarier below, just before I jump.
I wrote the above as I was traveling home from a holiday with my parents. The stresses and worries of airline baggage allowances for aid being dropped and preparing myself for this trip were weighing on me greatly, and I had lost the sense of peace I had a couple of days ago.
Now I have arrived home, it's what? Just a few hours since I wrote the above, and I feel so, so different.
I walked through the door and was met by the post stacked high. My first rush was to check if the malaria tablets had arrived, but as I rushed through the post I found other things with my name on. Whilst I have been away my friends have been dropping things through the door. An AMAZING gift, that I am so, so grateful for, a message, a prayer, a verse, and two letters to take out with me and open whilst I am there. Once again, the peace has returned. I have been reminded of the love, and the care God has put around me, in my friends, and my family, and people I hardly know, too. I am reminded of how God has been equipping and preparing me for this, and unlike a man He is completely trustworthy, He will never, ever let me down. And when I jump His arms of grace will be there, waiting, to catch me.
His arms of grace will be there.
They are there now, but they are here too, guiding me.
Thank You God, thank You for these people, they are amazing. Thank you for the hope I have in You. Thank You for Your arms of grace.
These next few days are not going to be easy, full of stresses and worries I am sure, but I will keep returning to You.
I will keep returning to You.