Yesterday, it was with much ambivalence that I, settled deeply into a Sunday evening rut of boredom, decided to watch Nik Wallenda's wire walk across the Grand Canyon.
It would be important to note here that I have a phobia of heights. I am talking about heights in a relatively "safe" context, such as those experienced from a perfectly functioning aircraft, or from the side of a mountain overlook with safety railing for miles. I, however, am not about to stay at home, so I get on a plane almost yearly and fly my little petrified heart out. I have been out West three times in recent years and entertain a deep love affair with the Rockies, the Grand Tetons, the granite of Yosemite. Gotta drive those winding, white-knuckle roads to enjoy those dizzying heights to their greatest advantage. Last year, as I left the postcard vistas of Yosemite, where my soul was fed by her beauty, we drove a stretch of highway with no shoulder, no rail and a drop-off of the side that stretched straight downward for many stories. It was near an area called the Blue Slide. As we got close, we saw crews hauling a car up the side of the gorge. Someone had, perhaps, been distracted for an instant. To say that I was relieved when we left that stretch and hit "safer" ground on our trek back to Mammoth Lakes is an understatement of epic proportions.
I suppose I have established that Nik and I were not exactly "kindred" spirits as I flipped the footrest out of my end of our reclining sofa and looked at the television through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. What manner of man was this? Who, exactly, does this sort of thing? Almost immediately, something other-worldly started to unfold in my cozy den (anchored to, as far as I know, completely solid ground).
As Nik put one leather stocking-shoe (his shoes were so flexible they almost looked like socks) onto the wire in front of the other, balancing his wire-walking pole horizontally, a camera gave us his view into the canyon below. It was horrifyingly dizzying to me. What happened next was that Nik began to call on the Lord in an intensely personal way. I was deeply touched. I realized that, not only was this man asking for help, he was praising and loving Jesus, revering God as King and exalting him as he made his way across this gorge, 178 countries watching by television. He acknowledged Christ as his everything, his all. He asked God to calm the wind. He took authority over it in the name of Jesus. He prayed, very fervently, nearly all of the way across the gorge. One step at a time he picked his way along this incredible journey, PRAYING intimate prayers most of the way. They were faith-filled prayers. They were humble, servant prayers. They were detailed prayers, mentioning the fact that the wire needed to be calmed down, the wind needed settling. At one point he testified that God was giving him strength. At somewhere near the halfway point, I bailed out of the den, leaving Gary to watch as I shouted questions from an adjacent room. I then stayed up until 12:30 a.m. to watch the walk in its entirety. It was like the most powerful devotional time and most riveting church service I had experienced in some time all rolled into one. Almost immediately I realized what was happening; I KNEW that God wanted me to approach my life and its myriad challenges exactly the way that Nik approached EACH step of his walk across the canyon; soaked in prayer, strengthened by faith, led by the Holy Spirit, and with a backdrop of unceasing praise born of an intimate love relationship with Him.
I thought about the things that had been worrying me lately. I thought about several forks in the road that have me confounded. Then I wondered what would happen if I trusted every step of the rest of life's journey to Jesus in such a profoundly faith-filled way. I started chatting online with an Australian friend. She told me that she had known nothing about Nik's planned walk but happened to tune in at the beginning. She said that she knew I was aware that she was not "religious" in any way, but that witnessing Nik's feat indicated to her that "faith is real." She also said that she, like me, had drawn the analogy to every person's personal walk through life's challenges. When she communicated all of this to me over Facebook chat, I had an instant realization that God had orchestrated this event and used it to communicate this truth to millions. He wants us all to know that, if we choose to walk closely with Him, He will take care of us, guide us, protect us, and lead us EVERY STEP OF THE WAY.
As I nestled into bed, my heart full of the goodness of the Lord to reach out to us, to speak to us so freely in the midst of our need, I asked Him to help me to remember all of the many lessons of the evening. I realized that the fact that Nik, as has been the long-standing tradition of his wire-walking family, did not use a safety net, carries another obvious message. All of the dependencies (overuse of hobbies, overeating, overuse of the internet, etc.) that I run to to help me limp from one stone to the next in the rushing river of life are unnecessary if I will take Christ's hand. If I will commit myself to Him and soak my life in His. While Nik picked his way along, I had also thought about the fact that the dreams God gives us are part-and-parcel of who He made us to be. Those dreams I have let die can be brought back to life under the power of prayer and the step-by-step with God approach Nik used on that wire.
Finally, I remember the moments just after the walk, when Nik spent some time on the side of the canyon alone. I imagined he was thanking God for making his dream come true. I imagined that it was an intimate moment between a loving, personal God and the man whose faith and hard work resulted in victory. How sweet those moments will be for me, too! I will remind myself today that I was not created for defeat. God has mountaintop moments for me, too. My story has not been fully written. I can hardly wait for the next chapter.
It would be important to note here that I have a phobia of heights. I am talking about heights in a relatively "safe" context, such as those experienced from a perfectly functioning aircraft, or from the side of a mountain overlook with safety railing for miles. I, however, am not about to stay at home, so I get on a plane almost yearly and fly my little petrified heart out. I have been out West three times in recent years and entertain a deep love affair with the Rockies, the Grand Tetons, the granite of Yosemite. Gotta drive those winding, white-knuckle roads to enjoy those dizzying heights to their greatest advantage. Last year, as I left the postcard vistas of Yosemite, where my soul was fed by her beauty, we drove a stretch of highway with no shoulder, no rail and a drop-off of the side that stretched straight downward for many stories. It was near an area called the Blue Slide. As we got close, we saw crews hauling a car up the side of the gorge. Someone had, perhaps, been distracted for an instant. To say that I was relieved when we left that stretch and hit "safer" ground on our trek back to Mammoth Lakes is an understatement of epic proportions.
I suppose I have established that Nik and I were not exactly "kindred" spirits as I flipped the footrest out of my end of our reclining sofa and looked at the television through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. What manner of man was this? Who, exactly, does this sort of thing? Almost immediately, something other-worldly started to unfold in my cozy den (anchored to, as far as I know, completely solid ground).
As Nik put one leather stocking-shoe (his shoes were so flexible they almost looked like socks) onto the wire in front of the other, balancing his wire-walking pole horizontally, a camera gave us his view into the canyon below. It was horrifyingly dizzying to me. What happened next was that Nik began to call on the Lord in an intensely personal way. I was deeply touched. I realized that, not only was this man asking for help, he was praising and loving Jesus, revering God as King and exalting him as he made his way across this gorge, 178 countries watching by television. He acknowledged Christ as his everything, his all. He asked God to calm the wind. He took authority over it in the name of Jesus. He prayed, very fervently, nearly all of the way across the gorge. One step at a time he picked his way along this incredible journey, PRAYING intimate prayers most of the way. They were faith-filled prayers. They were humble, servant prayers. They were detailed prayers, mentioning the fact that the wire needed to be calmed down, the wind needed settling. At one point he testified that God was giving him strength. At somewhere near the halfway point, I bailed out of the den, leaving Gary to watch as I shouted questions from an adjacent room. I then stayed up until 12:30 a.m. to watch the walk in its entirety. It was like the most powerful devotional time and most riveting church service I had experienced in some time all rolled into one. Almost immediately I realized what was happening; I KNEW that God wanted me to approach my life and its myriad challenges exactly the way that Nik approached EACH step of his walk across the canyon; soaked in prayer, strengthened by faith, led by the Holy Spirit, and with a backdrop of unceasing praise born of an intimate love relationship with Him.
I thought about the things that had been worrying me lately. I thought about several forks in the road that have me confounded. Then I wondered what would happen if I trusted every step of the rest of life's journey to Jesus in such a profoundly faith-filled way. I started chatting online with an Australian friend. She told me that she had known nothing about Nik's planned walk but happened to tune in at the beginning. She said that she knew I was aware that she was not "religious" in any way, but that witnessing Nik's feat indicated to her that "faith is real." She also said that she, like me, had drawn the analogy to every person's personal walk through life's challenges. When she communicated all of this to me over Facebook chat, I had an instant realization that God had orchestrated this event and used it to communicate this truth to millions. He wants us all to know that, if we choose to walk closely with Him, He will take care of us, guide us, protect us, and lead us EVERY STEP OF THE WAY.
As I nestled into bed, my heart full of the goodness of the Lord to reach out to us, to speak to us so freely in the midst of our need, I asked Him to help me to remember all of the many lessons of the evening. I realized that the fact that Nik, as has been the long-standing tradition of his wire-walking family, did not use a safety net, carries another obvious message. All of the dependencies (overuse of hobbies, overeating, overuse of the internet, etc.) that I run to to help me limp from one stone to the next in the rushing river of life are unnecessary if I will take Christ's hand. If I will commit myself to Him and soak my life in His. While Nik picked his way along, I had also thought about the fact that the dreams God gives us are part-and-parcel of who He made us to be. Those dreams I have let die can be brought back to life under the power of prayer and the step-by-step with God approach Nik used on that wire.
Finally, I remember the moments just after the walk, when Nik spent some time on the side of the canyon alone. I imagined he was thanking God for making his dream come true. I imagined that it was an intimate moment between a loving, personal God and the man whose faith and hard work resulted in victory. How sweet those moments will be for me, too! I will remind myself today that I was not created for defeat. God has mountaintop moments for me, too. My story has not been fully written. I can hardly wait for the next chapter.
