As part of RA training yesterday, we went to a ropes course to help build team unity. I'd say it worked! I felt pretty bonded with the various members of the team, and I really enjoyed facing my extreme fear of heights. One of the activities I did was to simply jump off a platform about 25 feet in the air to grab hold of a metal ring dangling over nothing some nine feet away. I thought that would terrify me more than the rock wall, but when I found myself several stories off the ground, hanging nearly backward on a very difficult course, I felt cold panic consume my being like few other times in my life. It's funny; I've faced down men threatening to knife me with no sweat, but holding on to small plastic handholds over empty space gives me the jeebies.
A lot of you have heard a lot of analogies about rock climbing and how having an anchor in the gospel keeps you safe and all that. As I defied my imagination's interpretation of my death, I was struck by a different sort of gospel analogy pertaining to rock climbing.
An inexperienced climber, like myself, cannot scale a wall safely without some sort of help in the form of an anchor on the ground. Growth upward is dependent upon the support of my friends on the bottom. I, as a missionary for life, will always be in a position to act as someone's anchor to help them along. Oh, sure, they could climb on their own, whether without ropes or by repeatedly tying knots in their lines during their ascent, but the safest and quickest path is through ... a friend. I want to be that friend.
I wrote a commentary about this post on February 19, 2015. Click here to read it!
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