Mom, you should probably close your eyes....

Ever since we moved to this area, everyone we meet asks us if we rock climb. That is because this is perhaps one of the best places to climb in the country, and it draws climbers from all over. We may not have a Wal-mart, or a shopping mall, but we have a climber’s paradise less than ten minutes from our back door. But to a girl like me that’s scared of heights and loves some Anthropologie, that didn’t mean much.

Rock climbing has NEVER been on my to-do list. Rather, it was on my list of things that I could definitely, without a doubt, die without having any regrets that I didn’t try it. Right up there with eat a chocolate-covered grasshopper. Or have sex in an airplane. (Really, how do people do that?) Not that I don’t think rock climbing would be really cool-it’s just that peeing my pants while hanging from a rope didn’t seem like a fun way to spend my free time. No offense to those of you who get your kicks that way. Plus, I save the daredevil hobbies for my husband. He’s the one that survived a small plane crash.

So, on Friday when my boss Lisa invited us to go climbing with her and her husband, there must have been someone else inhabiting my body. Perhaps I hadn’t had enough coffee yet. Because I said yes. And then spent the next two days trying to figure out how to get out of it. I thought we were going bouldering, and the boulders I’ve seen in Alabama, they’re not that big. But no, this was the real deal, with ropes and everything.

And….I did not pee on myself! Or anyone below me!

I’m still trying to find the words to describe the experience. Hanging several dozen feet above ground was definitely outside of my comfort zone; yet once I concentrated on just finding the next foot and hand hold and just getting myself UP, it was like I forgot that the ground below was getting more distant with every move. And on my second climb, I got just a few feet from the top anchor. Yeah, I admit it-I felt like a bad-ass. I should tattoo it on each cheek: B-A-D A-S-S. And I’m not talking about my face.

But I’m going to go a step further and go all ‘rap artist accepting a VMA’ and give the honor to God. Because when I was getting nervous that I was clutching the side of a cliff, alone, I thought of a verse I had read the previous week:

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” -2 Timothy 1:7 KJV

All I could think of was that the fear I was feeling (okay, more like utter terror) was not an emotion made by God; He fills us up to feel loved, comforted, even powerful. But not fearful. That comes from somewhere else. And I can’t, won’t live my life giving up to fear.

I know the next time I climb (there will be a next time; I’m hooked!) I’ll be nervous. But hopefully, somewhere between the ground and the sky, I can find a place of peace.