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.