In order to get almost anywhere worth getting to, you will have to cross a few bridges. Some are just wide enough to span the width of a small forest creek, and others stretch miles across bodies of water.
I've never considered myself someone who was afraid of bridges, until I met...
The Chesapeake Bay Bridge.
Before getting on the bridge, traffic slowed down, and I noticed signs for services that drive people across the bridge. I wondered why that was necessary, and once I got to the top of the bridge, hundreds of feet above the surface of the water, I realized how easy it would be to be freaked out by this bridge. Even as I was driving across, vivid imagery of me briefly losing control of my car and driving through the almost non-existant barriers into the bay flashed in my head. Later, I searched "scariest bridges in the United States", and the first bridge on the first article I read featured the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (locally refered to as "The Bay Bridge").
This made me feel a little bit better about being spooked by this bridge.
But why was I crossing this bridge in the first place?
On this mid-October Saturday afternoon I was driving to Denton, Maryland for an interview for a job as Camp Administrator for Camp Mardela, an opportunity I was ecstatic about, but with high excitement comes high stakes, not unlike the towering bridge over the bay.
In a similar bout of anxiety about the bridge, before entering the interview, I kept imagining all the ways I could screw up, if I was wearing the right clothes, if I would say the wrong thing. You know, the typical jitters you feel in almost any new social situation. However, at times, these imaginary scenarios would replay so often that I could barely distinguish them from reality, in the same way that at certain points on the bridge, the sensation of falling into the bay and imagining how I would get of my car and swim to safety felt so real.
Fear has a way of convincing us of a reality that hasn't even happened yet
Before a few years ago, I would have never described myself as a fearful person. However, looking back, most of my life my battles have been more internal than external, and the fears I had about myself seemed far bigger and more significant than anything that would happen around me.
But as life goes on, and you see more and experience more, you fear more. When you are young, you enter every new situation with eyes wide open, and no expectations. One example of this was when I went white water rafting for the first time. Other people told me it was fun, and although they joked about the dangers, I was ready to try something new and see if I enjoyed it.
And I did not.
Our group did not follow the directions and with jokes about getting caught on rocks and dying, I didn't appreciate the light-heartedness going into something so seemingly dangerous. I told myself I would never do that ever again. I tried it, didn't like it, and now I know better.
But apparently I don't.
During our debrief after our first month of minsitry on the World Race, our squad mentor showed us a video of people white water rafting on the Nile. Instantly I remembered the unpleasant experiene I had with white water rafting before, and I couldn't help but cringe. However, as she continued to talk, she tied the concept of floating helplesly down the rapids in a raft to our relationship with the Holy Spirit. It can be crazy sometimes, unpredictable, and sometimes downright dangerous, but in order to get the most out of it, we need to stop fighting and just surrender to the current, and trust that it will be good.
We were going to be near the base of the Nile in month 7 of the Race, and after hearing that, I knew I needed to give it another shot. I knew I needed to kill that fear and learn to go with the flow of the Holy Spirit.
Month 7 rolls around, which happened to be the month of my birthday, and as a gift, some friends in my chorus offered to help pay for an adventure, and that was my adventure of choice. I was terrified. I tried not to show it, but I don't think I was successful. The Nile river is a lot different than the Allegheny river. At Ohio Pyle I just remembered falling out of the raft, but we did pretty in-depth training on what to do when the raft flipped, as if that would be an inevitability, which freaked me out even more. Then to top it off, one of the first rapids we went through was an 8-foot waterfall.
While for most of the time we went through rapids, I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but I was able to enjoy it. I trusted that the raft guide knew what he was doing. I trusted that as long as I did what they said to do, to not panic and float through the rapids feet first, that I would be fine, and everyone else would be fine, too.
For me, this was an excersize in trust, and it is a lesson I have not forgotten.
This year, in many ways, has felt like white water rafting the Nile. When the waters get wild, trust that the people leading you know what they're doing, follow what you know you're supposed to do, and float through with your feet up if you lose the raft, trust that in the end, you will be okay, and ultimatly, God's got you. Fear likes to make us think that we have lost before the battle has even begun, but if we stand on the shore and watch as the water flows downstream, we will miss out on what's on the other side. We tell ourselves that it's safer on shore. We convince ourselves that the risks outweigh the benefits, and ultimatly, behind all of our logical reasons, fear is the real reason we remain immobilized, watching life pass us by.
We do not serve a God of "comfortable". We do not worship the messiah of "convenience". And we certainly aren't lead to salvation by the spirit of fear.
"For God did not give us a Spirit of fear but of power and love and self-control." 2 Timothy 1:7
Scripture says this outright, in no uncertain terms, that we, the redeemed people of Christ, are not a people of fear, but a people of power, love, and self-control. For some more context on this verse, Paul is actually talking to Timothy, a young minister whom he is encouraging. He is reminding Timothy of the gift God had given him to lead and teach. He reminds him of the hope of the gospel and the assurance of his salvation. Then, interestingly enough, he reminds him that in spite of all this, he may still suffer, and most likely will suffer. Paul was in jail when he wrote this letter, and even so, sent Timothy this encouragement, to rejoice in suffering knowing that hope comes from a grace and love that is beyond this world. This is why we can be empowered to share this hope, beloved so we can share the love of God, and reserved in knowing what is in our control and what is not.
So what if the bridge collapses? What if we get pinned against a rock in the raging current? What is the job interview goes terribly? What if we get sent to jail and persecuted for our faith? Is God still good? Is He still faithful? Is He still trustworthy?
YES
But even better, He is still good, faithful and trustworthy when we find the promised land on the other side of that bridge.
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