What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately
I Sang, Sweated and Survived
My husband Phil read me the disclaimers posted outside Marvel Cave in Branson, Missouri.
"There are 700 steps," he read, "and some of them are steep. People who have heart conditions, fear of small places and difficulty walking shouldn't venture in."
Phil looked at me and said, "Honey, I don't think you can do this." When Phil said he didn't think I could do it, he may have been right. Not only am I blind, but I have had quite a few embarrassing and scary bouts with claustrophobia over the years. Unfortunately, he told me I couldn't do it. That's quite different from being told I shouldn't do it. Something rose within me to prove I could do it. Before I could even protest, I heard Connor say, "I can't do it either. I am freaked out." Well, I could not set an example for my 11 year old that gave him permission to think he can't go in a cave. In fact, I want him to grow up and believe he can do anything he puts his mind to. So, I boldly announce, "I can and will, and so can Connor." Phil whooped and Connor moaned.
Off we went stepping down into the cave that would take us down 500 feet. I felt the temperature drop; I heard water dripping from the cave walls. We listened as our guide reassured us we weren't in the part of the cave where the bats typically come. But, she said, it has happened, so be aware. "Great," I thought, "if I don't die from sheer claustrophobia, the bats will do me in."
Phil was in front of me and I hung onto his belt loop as we twisted, turned, climbed and ducked. My brother Lawson walked directly behind me. In the tightest places, he placed his hand on top of my head so I wouldn't rise up too high and bang it on the cave roof. Just for context, I am 5'2" and I had to duck in some parts, so you can imagine how low certain passages were. During a particularly narrow and low hanging spot, I started singing as I walked forward. Lawson tapped his fingers on top of my head with the rhythm of my song and asked from behind, "Are you singing?" His tone was incredulous. He could have easily asked, "You're not singing in this cave, are you?" I giggled and said, "Yes, just to fill the empty sound." It wasn't even a real song. It was more like a nervous hum. We were sweating out of nervousness, even though the temp in the cave was down in the 50's. We climbed up the final steps and boarded rickety mining lifts to travel up to the exit of the cave.
So, the magnificent victory came among singing, sweating and stepping down, down, down and then, up, up, up! Life is like that. What it takes to make it through is not that complicated. You never decide you can't do it; you take steps--both up and down. You sing when you're scared, sweat a bit and keep walking toward the light. That's all. Whatever is scaring you today or whatever seems like a daunting task, just keep walking and singing along the way. You will find that every step leads you closer to the light.
"O send out Your light and Your truth. Let them lead me; Let them bring me to Your holy hill and to Your dwelling places." Psalm 43:3
Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.