Travel

The Fear Factor

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Photo by Karl Paul Baldacchino on Unsplash

It was a beautiful summer day. My friend, Lynn, and I chatted as we strolled among groups of people heading for one of B.C.’s main tourist attractions. I had glanced at the brochure Lynn showed me the day before and had a moment of hesitation when I saw the picture. Since falling on the cliffs on the north shore of Lake Superior the year before, I had developed a fear of heights, but I listened as Lynn read the details in the brochure and was confident I would have no problem.

We rounded the bend in the path and there it was, The Capilano Suspension Bridge. I watched as a young boy ran out onto it and jumped up and down. The bridge bounced and swayed. I hesitated. Lynn stepped boldly out and was almost half way across before she realized I wasn’t behind her. She waved me on. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the creaking boards.

I made it about two meters. Then that same young boy ran onto the bridge from the opposite end and jumped up and down again. The bridge swayed and buckled. I froze. My hands seemed glued to the steel cable, my feet would not move and my eyes would not focus on anything but the roaring Capilano River, two hundred and fifty feet below. I had never had a panic attack before. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I knew I could not move, neither forward nor back. I heard Lynn calling from the far side of the gorge, but I could not turn my head away from the river below.

Then I felt Lynn’s hand on mine. She urged me to look at her, and I finally pulled my eyes away from the gorge. I allowed her to remove one of my hands from the steel cable. Then I shuffled my feet as she led me back toward the closest side of the gorge.

Fear. It can destroy all sense of logic and reason. I knew the statistics about the bridge – that the cables were encased in thirteen tons of concrete at both ends. I knew that thousands of people had walked across it safely. But fear blocked all reason and left me paralyzed.

When we are in a place of extreme stress, fear can be a powerful factor. Like that day on that bridge, it can keep us from moving forward. At such times it’s good to have a friend like Lynn, one who will gently guide and lead us back to a place where we feel safe. Jesus is standing beside us, ready to be that friend. Through the prophet Isaiah, He says –

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)

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The Man with a Broom in His Hands

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Photo by Ariana Kaminski on Unsplash

 The day had been hot and the walk through the gardens longer than I had anticipated. I was among the first few people to return to the tour bus that day and it was a relief to step into the air-conditioned environment. As we waited for the others to return, our driver called our attention to a man in the parking lot. “See that guy?” he asked. The man was dressed in over-alls, with a base-ball cap pulled down to shade his eyes as he pushed a long broom toward the gutter. He looked like any other maintenance man you might see in a park. The driver paused for effect. “He’s the owner of this place.” He let the words sink in. “In fact, he’s the one who created it.”

 I stared out the window again. I thought of all the beautiful flowers, shrubs and trees we had just seen, the landscaping that had been done with skill and attention to detail. The gardens were world-renowned for good reason. I was shocked that the man who was responsible for it all was sweeping the parking lot. As our bus rolled away, I watched a large crowd heading for the entrance. They flowed around the man in the over-alls like water around a rock. No-one spoke to him. No-one even seemed to notice him. I wondered what they’d do and say if they knew who he was.

How often do we do that to God?

Even if we acknowledge that He did create the world we live in, we think of Him as the executive who stays in his office and calls the shots from there. We don’t expect to find Him with a broom in His hands. But that’s exactly where God is. He is present with us in every circumstance. Even better, His Spirit is living in us and working through us. He has His hands on the same broom we do. He walks the same roads, drives the same highways. He’s here, waiting for us to see Him, waiting for us to acknowledge his presence.

I still wonder what those people would have said and done, had they known who that man with the broom was. I wonder if they would have thanked him for the treasure he created and opened for their pleasure. I wonder if they would have been in awe, or just a little bit intimidated. And I wonder why it was we who knew sat in our seats and did nothing. We didn’t rush out and shake his hand. We didn’t express our thankfulness for the beauty we’d just seen and experienced. We drove away, watching that crowd ignore him.

There are a lot of verses in scripture that can be used to praise God, to thank Him, to give Him glory. The Psalms are full of them. Perhaps we should all take a moment to read a few, not just out of obligation or habit, but with heart-felt emotion, to acknowledge Him.

For, “Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise” (Ps.145:3).

Travel and What it Does to You

marcialeelaycock3 Comments

Hi

I have just returned from a 16 day trip across the Pacific Ocean. Being on open water for that long eventually gives you good sea legs but when you return you find you also have an inner ear that seems to insist that you are still bobbing and rolling along days after you have arrived on dry land.

Returning home also comes with the disorienting feeling that you’ve been away for months instead of days, while the “catching up” adds to the feeling that you really didn’t go anywhere at all. Somewhere in between all of that are the memories.

They cling tHawaian adornment (2)o you, images of tropical jungles and a variety of plant life that is stunning, smells that put you right back in the spot where you bent to sniff that flower, and sounds that make you stop and listen for those brightly coloured birds. Then you realize all of it is now far away and remains only in your mind. But the colours remain vibrant, the sounds crisp and clear.

And then there are the people – the woman you met who is likely making her last voyage on this earth; the tiny lady with exuberant energy who always wore a hat; the woman from India who remembered your name even though she had only met you once over a week ago; the American who kept bumping into you and saying, “oh yeah, you’re the writer;” and the girl from Indonesia whose smile lit up the whole room.

All of it aIao Mntn - Kuka'emoku Valley (14)dds up to an experience that changes you, a space of time that shifts your attitudes and makes you thankful for the life you lead and all that’s in it. I saw fish I could never have imagined existed and the largest Banyan tree in the world that spreads its roots and branches over an entire city block. I felt the steam of a volcano and the rough texture of the land its eruptions create. I laughed at jokes that really only make sense in another language and tried to twist my tongue to make those unfamiliar sounds.

Oh yes, there were a number of “first world problems” – internet access was almost non-existent, the living space was a little cramped and sometimes the coffee wasn’t really hot. But life was made more broad, enriched; opinions were challenged and sensations stimulated.

In short, I joined the ranks of the privileged and traveled. And I am thankful.

“Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them” (Psalm 111:2).