Living Dangerously

“Zippity doo dah, zippity day, my oh my, what a wonderful day! Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way, zippity doo dah, zippity day.”

Depending on your age, you may or may not remember this Disney song. For me, it pulsed vividly through my mind—with an emphasis on zippity, and minus the sunshine. Let me explain.

My husband and I had the privilege of accompanying a group of teens on a missions trip to Costa Rica. As a reward for our hard work, we were all treated to an afternoon of zip-lining in the rain forest. (Please note the word rain in front of the word forest.)

So there I was: helmeted, gloved, strapped up, and jingling as we hiked the mountain trail —  all the while wondering what I had gotten myself into. My fear of heights wrecked havoc in my mind, and I began fabricating excuses for why I was needed on the ground. But it was too late.

Crawling up the steps to the first platform (yes, they were steps normal people would walk up), I finally reached the top, hugged the tree, and forced an unconvincing brave smile. I didn’t look down, but nor did I look around. It’s hard to see anything with your eyes squeezed tightly shut. As I took slow deep breaths to calm myself, I was suddenly thrust into reality. The commanding voice of the guide was hard to ignore. What? I was next? Already?!

With a metal clink I was hooked up, given a few directions, and pushed off the platform–screaming like a banshee all the way to the next platform. Once my feet were on solid wood (hundreds of feet off the ground), I began to console myself that it really wasn’t that bad. After a few more runs, I actually opened my eyes to see the beauty of the rain forest below, and began to enjoy it. And that’s when it happened.

While waiting on a platform, pit-pats of rain began hitting my helmet, quickly turning into pelts and bullet-sized bombs. There was no place to run and no place to hide. Standing under a large banana leaf turned out to be a bad decision. It only drooped to accurately funnel cold rain water down my backbone. Great. Now I was not only wet to the bone but cold. Could things get any worse? I had no idea they could.

I was next to go. My husband just disappeared into the blinding rain for the far-away platform nobody could see. It was the longest run yet, and held the beauty of a waterfall below. With a clink I was hooked to the zipline, awaiting my turn.

And then it happened. A giant boom echoed and a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky and into the small clearing of the canopy in front of me.

Time seemed to stand still and everything seemed as if it was in slow motion. I looked at the guide whose expression of alarm gave me no comfort. As I feared, the only way out of this danger was zipping down that line. Of course, all the teens behind me were anxious to flee the rainforest. “GO!” they shouted frantically. Easy for them to say.

Being under a tree, moving quickly, and touching wet metal — those were all things you don’t do in an electrical storm. I hesitated because I couldn’t go, but neither could I stay. The situation was impossible and out of my control. I was paralyzed, but that moment was a defining one in my faith.

Could I trust God to protect me?

Another crack of lightning ripped through the sky, punctuated by a boom of thunder, and I pushed off — holding my breath and asking God to hold my life tightly in His hands. Instead of screaming like a banshee, I prayed like a warrior as I crossed over the waterfall, zoomed past an outcropping, and made it safely to the next destination. My shaking body and rubbery legs were glad to be alive and I never felt so relieved and thankful in my life. In my crisis, God didn’t disappoint.

We may not like our circumstances in life.
We may feel out of control.
We may even be frozen in fear or inwardly screaming at the top of our lungs, but He’s with us in the midst of it all.

Zippity doo dah, zippity day… there may not be “plenty of sunshine headed your way,” but when you invite Him in, His presence transforms it to “a wonderful day.”

What’s going on in your zipline of life?