When God lets you drop...

There once was a man who went on a walk in the Grand Canyon. He took a small winding trail off the main venue to get away from the crowds of sight seers and trail guides. Panting for breath after a steep climb he squatted down in the shade of a sajauro cactus. Then he got up to continue his hike, but didn't notice the loose gravel covering the place where he stood. He suddenly found himself sliding on the loose earth toward a precipice. Faster and faster he went, desperately trying to dig his feet into the ground and stop his decline. At the very last moment he reached out and caught hold of a small, wiry bush that had dug its roots in the side of the cliff. His feet continued to slide and soon were kicking and swinging in the air above the drop off. His heart beat so fast he could hardly take a deep enough breath to get out his cry for help. As he clutched the trunk of the bush he cried again and again, "Help! Is anybody there? Somebody help me!"

   Now this man was a Christian. He was very close to God and often heard God's voice. But he had never heard it clearer than in that moment:

  "I'll help you." God said out of the blue sky, "Let go of the bush."

Now, when I first heard this story it was a joke--and the punch line was when the man replied, "Is there anybody else up there?" But instead of laughing, I responded by wondering what I would have done in the same circumstance. So, go with me to that precipice, place yourself in that man's predicament. Feel the strength leaving your hands, hear the cracking of the bush as it begins to give way under your weight. Feel the quiet of the desert, the canyon, the sky--you're alone and no one is coming to help you.

Then think of letting go.

No! 

Your flesh screams it. How could you let go? Isn't that suicide? But also--God could possibly know something you don't. Who do you trust? Your gut--or God?

This reminds me of another story.

There once was a little girl who loved a lion. He had saved her, her friends, and her family from the power of an evil ruler. But since then he had gone missing and they were once again in terrible trouble. They needed his help. Walking through the woods, this little girl and her friends came upon a huge gorge through which a river ran. And it was from the edge of that precipice that Lucy saw The Lion.

You know the story of Aslan and the four Pevensie children from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia. 

The Pevensies did not trust Lucy that first time and follow her on a path that seemed to them to lead right over the edge of the cliff to a stony death below. But later they learned of their error, returned to the gorge, and in stepping out, found a hidden path they had not seen before. Aslan had known something they did not. 

The same is true for us. 

We walk along in life, confident that our stride will bridge any streams or crevices we meet. Even if we do slip up some we are pretty sure that if we dig our feet in and catch hold of something, we'll come out alright in the end. We are self-reliant, confident, mature.

The Bible says that God resists the proud, and think of all the ways in which God brings life, joy and peace into our lives. If we were missing these blessings, what a miserable life we would have! Yet God will not bless us with his presence or his favor if we lift ourselves above Him in pride. In His mercy He would rather humble us through painful circumstances than to see us outside of His blessing.

And so we find ourself on the cliff edge hanging by our fingertips, and finding no one but God to help. 

"Let go." He says. "Trust me."

Oh, how it burns, our feeling of resistance...the pride welling up inside. Yet, once we release our grip, we find ourself falling, falling and then--BAM--a tough landing on the Solid Rock, our refuge and foundation, which we had not known would be there to catch us. Its at this point that we cry tears of repentance and releif and begin, instead of hating the word trust, to sing hymns like this one:

"Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just to take Him at His word.

Just to rest upon His promise,

And to know "Thus, saith the Lord."

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I've proved Him o're and o're.

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus.

Oh, for faith to trust Him more!"

Thus saith the Lord: "Let go."