Father/Son Football Game

This past weekend we had our first Father/Son event of the school year for the Tacoma Rescue Mission and given all of the great Washington state footballs teams, we had to see a game. The University of Puget Sound Loggers were playing the Whitworth Pirates here in Tacoma on Saturday which turned out to be a perfect host for our tailgate and football entertainment.
Saturday morning came with roaring thunder and unpredictable showers, which had me second guessing our plans, but the weather proved to just be teasing us as the rain let up just in time for us to fire up the grill for our tailgate. All the necessaries, burgers, hot dogs, and hot chocolate, were abundant as we all watched the two football teams, both trying their best to look intimidating, make their way to the field for the start of the game. Our tailgate was cut a little short because we didn’t want to miss the rest of the first quarter as the game started a little early. And believe it or not, the rain began to come down again as soon as we started packing up our equipment.
As all of us made our way into the stadium we found some front row seats still available! Although it was fall break for the home team the atmosphere was still exciting with loud cheers on the big plays. The score was close up until halftime but the Pirates proved to be too much for the Loggers in the second half. Despite the final score, the fellowship and conversations we had during the game was memorable.
Making our way out of the stadium there were a couple players that were able to chat with us after the game and the question everyone wanted to know was, “Have you ever been knocked out?” We all sized them up and concluded they could’ve used our help out on the gridiron. It was great for them to take the time to chat with all of us!
We wrapped up our adventure with some beverages and snacks at the student union as we waited for our ride. It was nice to warm up a bit inside exchanging stories after being outside so long in the weird, unavoidable fall weather. The Father/Son football game was a great time and thanks to everyone who participated!

Reaching New Heights Continued...

At the end of the last post, I left you "hanging" a little bit, an image that is all too appropriate when re-living the experience of repelling with the Tacoma Rescue Mission youth off of an 180-foot bridge. You might be wondering: did we all make it?
Some of the students were jumping at the chance to repel off of this bridge, even when they had never had any experience with repelling before. I was so impressed--some of these youth, more than ten years younger than me, were less scared than I was. In fact, they were excited! They anxiously waited their turn, and then crawled over the fence with a smile as they started to repel their way to the ground below.
At the same time, some students paced back and forth with nerves: bravery didn't come to all of us so easily. One elementary-aged girl named Amy, the youngest and smallest of the group, shook her head decisively. "No, I am NOT doing that!" she said. She would peak through the holes in the chain link fence, rethinking her decision, but again concluding, "Nope!" Eventually, as time passed, all the other students in the first group had repelled except for Amy. It was now her turn, if she was willing to take it. And at this point, she had seen all the other kids go down and make it to the bottom with grins plastered on their faces the entire time. She took a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "I'll do it."
Amy got strapped into her harness and connected to the ropes. With some help, she climbed over the fence. Then she took a look down. "Nevermind!" she said. "I changed my mind! I want to go back!" And so Amy was helped back over the fence onto the bridge. The experience was scary, and I didn't blame her. I still doubted whether I was going to go down or not too.
But a thought came to mind: maybe Amy and I could do it together. I wasn't sure if it was possible, but I asked Amy, "If we can repel together, would you be willing to go down?" She shook her head yes with no hesitation. I was excited that she trusted me enough to go down with me, and I was excited that she wouldn't miss out on an such an unforgettable experience. The peak 7 volunteers confirmed that they would be able to harness Amy and I together so that we could repel at the same time. We both smiled. Amy and I were going to conquer our fear of heights together. I breathed a silent sigh of relief: Amy thought I was helping her, but she didn't know how much she was helping me.
We started to harness up together, and my heart was racing, but my mind remained calm--all I thought about was Amy. I focused completely on her, and I was able to throw my bag of hesitations and fears and reservations over the bridge, far away. If were on my own, I would have been freaking out, at least on the inside. But Amy trusted me. She depended on me to get to the bottom safely. And so I wanted to make her feel as comfortable and as safe as possible. She probably would rethink her decision to go down with me if I had let my nerves take over. So I played it cool: I didn't want her to think there was any reason to worry.
We finally climbed over the fence and stood there for a second. Then, in the most unnerving moment of that experience, we had to let go and trust that the harness and the rope were going to hold us. Both of us. Amy asked me to put my arm around her before we let go. "Sure," I said. I couldn't believe how much she was willing to trust me. "Are you ready, Amy?" I asked. She nodded her head up and down. "Yeah." And then we did it. We were both hanging by the rope from the bridge, 180 feet up in the air, my arm around her tiny body. We were both elated. "Amy, you did it! Way to go, girl! Isn't this amazing?" She giggled, "Yeah! I can't believe this!"
Amy and I slowly made our way down, and she couldn't stop looking towards the ground. Instead of feeling frightened, she felt exhilarated. I, on the other hand, still felt a little anxious. With my arm around Amy, my ability to hold the rope and control the speed at which we were repelling was difficult. The muscles in my forearm ached with the extra weight. Every once in a while I felt like I might let go. But I wasn't going to let go--I couldn't lose her trust. Even though the Peak 7 volunteer up above on the bridge was there to grab the safety rope in case I lost control, I felt responsible for keeping her fear at bay. I didn't want to scare her. So I pushed through the pain, doubting myself from time to time whether I really could do it or not. Eventually, I just gave it up to God, and He gave me the strength to make it down. We made it down just fine. When we got to the ground, Amy laughed and smiled uncontrollably. "I want to do it again!" she said the instant her feet touched the ground. What an amazing girl--I was so proud of her!
"It was so nice just having you there with me. I felt so comfortable knowing you were next to me," she said as we hiked back up to the bridge were we started. "I feel the same way," I said, nodding my head up and down, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Reaching new heights with the TRM Youth

On Saturday, October 3rd, a group of youth from the Tacoma Rescue Mission chose to participate in a climbing trip hosted by volunteers from Peak 7, a non-profit adventure company, in the beautifully scenic town of North Bend, WA. The sun was out, and the day was beautiful, but we never would have guessed how chilly it was really going to be. Some of us shivered a bit. Some of us stood near one another, consolidating what bodily warmth we could muster. Maybe some of us complained. Fortunately, our group was determined to try something new; we were determined to climb. We put on our gear, strapping on a safety harness, helmet, and climbing shoes, and then we took the twenty-minute hike up to our climbing destination. We soon realized, though, that we would have the opportunity to not only rock climb that day but also repel. Sounds easy--repelling means you go down from a rock or structure, and going down the rock should be easier than climbing up the rock, right?

But imagine this: you are standing on a bridge and you have to climb over a chain link fence, after which you are forced to face a 180-foot drop that ends with water, rocks, and a thick forest of trees. At this point, the only way you can make it from the fence to the bottom of the 180-foot drop is if you have trust. We had to trust our harness, the only thing connecting our bodies to the ropes from which we dangled. We had to trust the two ropes from which we repelled, the only things connecting our harness to the bridge. We had to trust ourselves; depending on how tightly we gripped the rope with our hand, we had control of how fast we repelled from the bridge. We had to trust David, a Peak 7 volunteer who was on top of the bridge, on the other end of the "backup" rope; he was there in case we lost control of our own rope and started falling too quickly. And we had to trust God, the one and only who possesses ultimate control over our lives. So it wasn't easy--kids looked over the fence at the 180-foot expanse between themselves and the ground and were quick to say,"No way! I can't do that!" Some said, "I'm too scared." It didn't take long for our bodies to get warmed by the adrenaline that pumped through our bodies once our adventure finally started. And even though we didn't all admit to experiencing fear and doubt, I'm sure we all shared feelings of insecurity regarding the unknown and the unexpected. Were we going to be okay? Could we overcome our fears, and could we all make it down? Wait to read the next post to find out...!