My short arms and legs meant that I had to reach up incredibly to the next rung. The metal hurting my hands. I was out of breath. I had been working out and it was still a challenge. I got thirsty at some point. There was a man half my size trying to encourage me as I attempted to heft me and my extra weight up this telephone pole. Below, I could hear my co-workers cheering me on. It was their cheers that bolstered me up to the top. I don't know how but somehow I made it to the top.
I tried all of the activities, very slowly I was conscientious of the height. Later I discovered that to get down, we had to zipline down. I was not upset about it until it was my turn. Here is the thing. Me, being me, set an example. There were some that told themselves, "If Miller could do it, then I could do it." Condescending, I know. And yet, this is what they told themselves to get to the top. When it was time to get down, they took off my front harness. This is what held me the whole time. They should have left it on and psychologically, I would have been able to go down. There was nothing to hold on to, so I panicked. It took quite some time to convince me to go down. It was only after I realized that the harness should be placed in front of me, even if it didn't count that I was able to go down kicking and screaming.
Later, my display had caused other people to become fearful. They had followed me up and now I was balking! There were some that could not go down and struggled to get down. I don't even remember now how they got down. A former co-worker told me that I really messed up by punking out the way that I did. He was genuinely angry at me. But I struggled! In looking back, I understand what he was saying but there was nothing I could really do about it.
I feel like I'm ready for a metaphorical zipline in my life. There is a song that has to do with burning ships and starting fresh. It has to do with stepping into a new day. I have wallowed and lingered. I have mourned and grieved. I'm okay with having to touch base with myself from time to time and if I still have lingering moments of grief then I will cry and allow myself that moment. I'm ready for the next new (right) thing. And yes, it is scary but it is an exciting scary. I'm not going to make a spectacle about doing down. I'm just going to do it. This is what I think about:
I Corinthians 9:24-27
"Do you not now that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified."
It's hard and scary but I'm moving forward and stepping out. Praise the LORD!
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