I remember standing precariously at the top of the
slope, looking down. A voice behind me yelled: "Be careful,
you're too close!", but it seemed that something was
beckoning to me from down below. Even though I was a little dizzy,
I felt almost euphoric as I began stripping away my safety
equipment. Off went my harness, helmet, and boots. I even got rid
of my rope, telling myself that I was such a seasoned climber I'd
be okay. And besides, what a great challenge it would be to get
to the bottom with no help! I would be depending only upon myself.
I started down slowly, and was fine as long as I kept
from looking. Sometimes I caught glimpses of the bottom, and it
scared me. As I gained confidence, my speed increased. It just
took the proper rhythm. But wait! Too fast! My foot slipped and I
couldn't get my balance! Before I knew it, I was tumbling end
over end down the slope. Don't panic! It's not that bad! I
told myself, as I reached frantically for something to grab a
hold of. A twig! But it wasn't big enough, and snapped in two.
Some brush! But it was far too prickly to hold onto tightly. At
last, a branch that seemed strong enough to bare my weight. I
hung on with all my might, thankful to be still. All that
tumbling had made me quite dizzy. But I could still see the top,
so I wasn't that scared. I knew I could make my way back up if I
really wanted too. My fall had left me shaken and bruised, but
since I wasn't broken, I just tried to get comfortable where I
was, hanging onto the branch. I tried to gain a foothold; but
there was none to be found.
It sure would be easier with my boots, I
sighed, lamenting my situation. It's hard to say just how much
time passed with me hanging onto that branch, but after a while
my arms started to ache. And my hands felt slippery from all the
muck I'd accumulated during the fall. Once again I thought I
heard someone calling to me from high up, but the voice was so
faint. The beckoning from below, however, was growing stronger.
All at once, I was off the branch and falling again. Whether I
let go or the branch had broken, I wasn't sure. It seemed so
sturdy, but I had grown tired of trying to bare my own weight. I
just couldn't support myself any longer. Down, down I fell, at
times almost knocking myself unconscious. It hadn't looked like
such a great distance from the top! Or had it? It was hard to
remember. The first time I fell, I was too proud to yell for help.
Now I was yelling like crazy, but it seemed no one could hear me.
Was my mouth even open, or was I just yelling in my head?
Finally, I hit the bottom with a great thud. I lay
there for quite some time, trying to catch my breath, but it was
difficult to breathe. I thought it must be night time, do the
complete absence of light. In such darkness, I did not dare to
move, fearing something even worse might happen. So I waited. And
sat. And thought. The worst was remembering how casually I had
tossed aside all my safety equipment, ignoring the advice to be
careful. I was in such a hurry to find out what was at the bottom
of the slope, and now here I sat. I finally admitted that
something was very wrong, for morning never came. Just me, by
myself, in that crushing darkness. I felt so alone, so utterly
without hope. It seemed to be getting harder to breathe, and I
was tired of forcing myself to stay awake. I cursed myself for
ever attempting to climb down that stupid slope, and almost
longed for the icy grip of death to embrace me. Then at least I
would finally be out of this pit. Sinking deeper and deeper into
despair, I uttered one last, feeble cry: "GOD, HELP ME!"
Suddenly, it was as if a giant hand put hammer to chisel and the darkness that surrounded me split wide open! Light flooded my pit, and I could plainly see the stairway leading back up the mountain. It had been there all along, but I was so blinded by the darkness that I hadn't even dared to grope for an exit. I was exuberant, and bounded back up the mountain full of joy.
"So, if you think you are standing firm,
be careful that you don't fall!"
~1Cor.10:12
