Back in June (I know, I still never write), our family went to Family Camp. It was a week full of firsts for the kids, and they had a blast as they tried new things.
There was a moment that stood out to me and continues to stand out to me. It was the day of the high ropes course. E, J, and I decided to do the Pole. If you're not familiar with the Pole, it's basically a telephone pole 30-40 feet in the air that you climb and then stand on to jump to a trapeze. Some say it's the hardest of the high ropes activities because of the mental game it plays with you when you are standing on it. Time and again as I've seen people climb it, the hardest part is jumping off.
The day we were doing high ropes, we had some rain. It caused the grips to be harder to hold onto and added more of a mind game as we now had rain falling on us on and off. Josh went first, and he climbed it, stood, and then didn't want to jump. The fear was in the jump. But he did it in time. Emily went next, and she quickly made it up as well. She hesitated briefly before standing but was able to do so fairly soon after getting up there. Because this was her third time up the pole (twice at the Mother/Daughter retreat in the spring), her delay wasn't as significant, but it was still the jump that caused her to hesitate.
Then came my turn. I was having an incredibly difficult week, and by the time it was my turn, I didn't want to go but knew I had to because I'd said I would. With rain again coming down, I climbed. Each step upwards, I seemed to hit my knees or lose my grip, but I made it to the top without too much of a problem. It took a minute to figure out how to get my body on the top of the pole, but I made it up. And then, the weight of the world seemed to descend upon me. I wasn't scared of standing or jumping, though that is hard. I literally could not do it. My body felt like it had 500 pounds coming down on me, and the pain of 2+ years of trying and failing fell over me. I do not like crying in public, but I suddenly couldn't stop. For all of the mountain to hear, I sobbed and declared that life had me overcome.
I had to have stayed up there for 15 minutes or more trying to make my body work, crying, and being prayed over, but I knew in that moment that I couldn't do it. Though I had fought my way up the pole and onto the platform, I could not stand on my own two feet. No matter how I moved or maneuvered, my strength was gone, and I could not stand. My job instead was to slide off and leave it for someone else.
I felt like such a failure, but as the day went on, I saw the Lord giving me a picture of my life.
For almost 2 and a half years, our family has climbed. We have been bruised. We have been rained on. And we have been sitting on top of the platform unable to stand. We have asked God to change us. We have asked Him to help us.
Sometimes the answer is no.
Sometimes you have to slide off and leave it for someone else. And in that, you might feel like a failure. You might be judged because you couldn't make it. You might hurt because of the bruises you got along the way and the pain you feel from sliding off instead of finishing the task. But sometimes the task isn't yours to finish.
Reading this even now, I know this still to be true. The emotions are less forefront, but I know that God's plan doesn't always look like we imagined. Sometimes the yes in the obedience changes as time goes on. That doesn't mean the obedience changes--but the thing He has called you to might.
As we enter 2017, my hope is that I will obey God even when it doesn't make sense, that I will obey Him even when others around don't understand. Let His best for my life be what I pursue.
