I turned sixty this week. To do battle against the idea that I’m now officially old I wanted to do something epic (for me, at least).
Since I’ve always had a fear of heights, I thought skydiving would be a good way to finally face and conquer that fear. So several months ago, I made a decision and commitment to go skydiving on my birthday. Well, three of my four sons (and Luke would’ve been there if it’d been possible, and with much less fear than I had) surprised me on the eve of the skydive by showing up at my house and announcing they were doing it with me. I was touched. Touched by both their gesture of support and the hardening reality that I was actually going to jump out of an airplane the next morning.
Once on the plane, I sat fearful five feet from the doorway into the arid blue sky. Rock-paper-scissors had providentially determined that I go first. Terrified at the idea of rising and taking the two steps to the threshold, I searched my mind for any comforting thought. I rejected thoughts of parachutes not opening, becoming detached from my instructor and a thousand other ideas designed to strip me of my courage. Then it came: if Jesus can forgive all my sins and take me into His eternal kingdom, He can certainly take care of me as I do this thing that people do everyday. I knew it was a Scriptural truth but the actual verse was too vague in my mind for me to remember. Chris, the instructor who would tether himself to me and expertly assure all went well on the dive (and whom I thank from the bottom of my heart for making it as smooth and easy as possible for me), said to me, “Just hold your hands close to your chest; be sure to not stick your hands out as you go through the doorway.” As I rose, stepped forward and placed my feet on the threshold, my hand instinctively went up onto the wall above the doorway.
Nothing in me wanted to exit that plane. Chris politely pulled my hand down and nudged me forward. I leaned forward and off we went into the wild blue yonder.
It was nothing like what I anticipated. I expected serenefloating in the sky. But it was loud, hectic and chaotic. Chris pointed out geographical features down below as we rushedtoward our drop zone target, but I was distracted by all the wind noise to really take in what he was saying to me.
Soon after he opened our chute I became nauseous and dizzy. I told Chris how I was feeling, so he took it easy the rest of the way down, making as few turns and spins as possible.
Still, by the time we landed I was weak and white as a sheet. My co-divers, my three sons, helped me to the seating area, since my knees were weak and my legs shakey.
So my skydiving experience wasn’t what I hoped it would be. I envisioned myself standing strong and tall, having conquered my fear by heroically jumping from a plane and landing on the ground in the posture of a Marvel character. Instead, I cowardly leaned out of the opening of the plane, somehow survived my anxiety throughout the fall and landed on weak legs and groped for someone to help me back to the hanger. I was embarrassed.
I didn’t really feel like I accomplished my goal of overcoming my fear of heights. But I think I did accomplish something else. I soon searched and found the verse of Scripture I needed that would help me put my day into perspective. It was Romans 8:32, and it’s simple logic. If God has done something as great as sending His Son to die for us, which of our smaller needs would He be unwilling to meet?
My plan is to remember my skydiving sixtieth birthday experience and Romans 8:32 to remind me that God will always take care of my needs, whatever they are, since He’s taken care of my greatest need via the cross. Whether my need is for courage, peace, provision, protection, or whatever, it’s smaller than the gigantic need He’s already met through the greatest act of sacrifice in history. That’s the promise of Romans 8:32, and it’s more reliable than the strongest of parachutes and the best of skydiving instructors (which would be Chris).
He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? (Romans 8:32)