James 1:10 NIV
Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will lift you up.
I am not an adventurous soul—nor was I an adventurous teenager. You can read “not adventurous” and translate it to mean boring; that is completely accurate! Therefore, it was with more than a little trepidation that I entered Kings Island Amusement Park with my parents as a young teenager. I was excited about the roller coasters—as long as they did not go upside down, or hang me dangling with just a harness between me and my assured death should the electronics/software/mechanics all decide to malfunction at once. As you can see, this was promising to be one fun day with a teenager who didn’t want to try any of the exciting rides.
They claim it wasn’t but I think all of this was thought through by my parents, especially my dad, that when we entered the park he looked at one of the big attraction rides to our left and said, “Hey that line is short let’s start there!” and proceeded to drag us over to the Drop Tower. The Drop Tower is a 280-foot tall tower that, as you sit foolishly strapped into a seat and your feet are slowly separated from the earth, hulls you and 49 other people up, up, up! They strap you in so you don’t realize how ridiculous you were to get on the ride and try to jump off once you realize that you’re already pretty far off the ground and that you still have a long, long way to go before the top!
I sat watching the ground disappear, listening to my father happily chatting away about how far we could see being up this high—maybe he could but my eyes were closed!! When you finally reach the top you hear the machine that dragged you up release, but you don’t drop immediately—oh no, you hang there for a bit. In case you should ever be silly enough to want to experience this, I won’t tell you for how long they keep you suspended well above the tree line, but suffice it to say it is just long enough that you start to relax, just a teensy bit. Then you drop. My mom said she screamed so long she had to take a second breath and scream again. Personally, I couldn’t breathe in a second time on the rush down and so one long scream, possibly the last one of my life was all I could muster before we came to a stop, completely unscathed at the bottom of the ride. I had survived! I couldn’t wait to do it again!
As we waited in line a second time, I asked Dad if he had screamed—he said no. Incredibly, I quizzed him on how such a phenomenon could take place. He patiently explained that if you relax and focus on staying calm then you can let your legs float up and you enjoy the wind rushing past your ears. I thought he was crazy (which was what I thought most of the time in those years) but determined I would try it the second time around. I did and he was right; it was also way less thrilling but rather was a more relaxing, enjoyable, kind of ride. I was thinking about this experience when I realized that this is yet another metaphor for what happens in our life of faith.
So often we are tightly gripping, our bodies rigidly holding on to people, money, circumstances, control—you name it! We hold onto the thing we are so scared of releasing because we don’t know what will happen, but if we keep clenching then we will stay in control, or so we think. By not surrendering to God, we exhaust ourselves trying to keep the thing out of His hand and in our own hands.
When we surrender though, we can experience the peace we were missing out on. Our ride may not be smooth, but instead of being terrified and exhausted, we can rest in Him knowing that He is holding us. The peace that comes with this kind of surrender is nothing that we can provide ourselves outside of Him.
Corrie Ten Boom said, “Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open..” What are you holding tightly today? What circumstances are you trying to prevent through your human strength? He is waiting, ready to give you rest if you will only surrender to Him.