Have you ever said to Jesus, “When you take me, I’ll be ready to go”? Have you ever declared, “I’m not afraid to die!” because you know your body belongs to him and we have a better life waiting for us?
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens (2 Corinthians 5:1).
I always thought this was my sincere belief, but is it?
The Cliff Edge
It was just a hike. I had researched the trails, examined pictures, read reviews, and nothing had indicated there was any peril involved in the route I chose.
In fact, many hikers probably take that path all the time and would wonder why I thought I was going to die, but it’s like this: I don’t like being close to the edge of a cliff with a sheer drop on one side and only little scrubby plants to grab hold of on the other.
As soon as I saw the sign for “Caution, Cliff,” my heart started beating faster. I couldn’t turn back; the trail had been getting narrower and steeper for a while, and going down made me more nervous than heading up.
And besides, in my stubborn naïveté, I always think, “No one would send ordinary people into danger — it’s just a short hike.” But this is British Columbia, a pretty wild place (as I’m regularly reminded).
So, I stepped onto that ledge, getting low, moving very slowly, legs shaking, nearly crying, chanting, “Don’t look down, don’t look down.”
The Lord heard my prayers for help because at least I wasn’t frozen in terror. I just kept asking him not to let me fall. I didn’t want that to be my end.
The path kept going and going, higher and higher, without widening. Every time I thought I was at the end of it, there was more, plus new perils. A tree branch in the way. Residual ice and snow. Loose rocks. Lord, please, not today. Not this way.
Maybe mine was just a personal and irrational sort of terror. I don’t mind climbing ladders or trees.
But later that day and into the night (and the next night), I was fighting intrusive and terrifying images of what might have happened; what if I’d brought a friend or a daughter and that person had fallen?
What if I’d fallen to my death, or worse — to serious injury under that ledge? I’m not interested in painfully and slowly perishing alone on a steep hillside.
Faith to Walk on Water
Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” (Matthew 8:26-27).
Later, Matthew recounts how the disciples waited in a boat on the shore while Jesus went to pray, and the boat started floating away. Jesus walked on water to reach them — the disciples’ first thought Jesus was a ghost.
But their Teacher called out, “Do not be afraid.” Then Peter wanted to meet him on the water, so at Jesus’ command, Peter started to walk on the waves, watching his Teacher the whole time.
But Peter looked down and started to drown. “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” (Matthew 14:22-33).
Truthfully, none of us knows how we will die, when, or where. My life is in God’s hands, and every kilometer I travel between my home and another hiking location is actually more dangerous than the hike itself.
After all, the roads (in Canada, at least) are bigger killers than the wilds or the animals who live there.
And even though Christ is in control, he does not guarantee we will experience life unscathed. Those storms rise up, or the cliff edge plunges close by.
It’s sane and normal to fear. Encountering terrifying things without feeling fearful would be unnatural and disturbing.
If I get a cancer diagnosis one day, I will be afraid of the experience, the unknown, but does that mean I am being faithless? No. God expects us to fear frightening things.
Jesus on the Edge
Fear is subjective; sometimes, a person is surreally calm as compared with someone else whose fear gets out of step with reality.
The Lord is still eager to comfort the anxious and frightened believer, and he will also tell us the truth about distorted perceptions.
God invites us to be transformed by the renewal of our minds (Romans 12:12). He expects us to think through our doubts, terrors, and worries. What do you think will happen? Is that worse than what’s happening now?
What if your worst fear comes true, then what? Jesus was saying to Peter, “I’m right in front of you, keep your eyes on me. Then you’ll have no reason to be afraid.”
But it’s important not to pretend we are not afraid because we miss Jesus if we behave like we never need him.
That’s not a reason to go looking for trouble. Gratuitous risk-taking is not an example of super-faith. A girlfriend once sincerely admired how much I must trust God because I went for early-morning walks, in the dark, without wearing a high-visibility vest. “That’s not faith,” I replied, “I’m being stupid and irresponsible.”
Jesus himself said to Satan, quoting Deuteronomy 6:16, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test” (Matthew 4:7). I imagine Jesus would have said to me, “wear a light or something.”
When we face fear, that is when the Lord really shows his light. We recognize our need for him when we are afraid, and the Lord shows that he is with us under every circumstance, even if we are foolish or our thoughts are distorted. He never leaves us nor forsakes us. When I am weak, he is strong (2 Corinthians 12:10).
The Real Cliff Edge
Every situation that challenges us can also grow us spiritually. I came face-to-face with the realization that I was not submitting fully to God.
I haven’t given over control of the details of how I might suffer and potentially die from just living life, making choices that aren’t necessarily bad but might come with risks.
The men on the boat did not ask to enter a storm, it just happened, yet the Lord was basically saying, “I am with you, you don’t need to be afraid.” Does that also mean the Lord won’t let me fall off a cliff?
No. Is he inviting me to behave recklessly? No. A life lived for Jesus is full of risks, but God is always good. I kept saying that to myself too. “You’re good in every situation, God, so if anything goes wrong here, help me to remember that. Still, please get me off this trail.”
The cliff edge I faced was the choice of whether or not to call on Jesus when I was afraid, remembering that life is full of frightening events and challenging scenarios.
The other day, something stressful happened, and I forgot to pray until later, which really shocked and upset me. “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34). What was abundant in my heart at that moment?
The Context of Risk
What I really want, if I’m honest, though, is to die in such a way that glorifies God. I don’t want to perish senselessly or cause strife to those who would have to recover my body from a mountainside at some risk to their own lives.
I love hiking, you see, and there are dangers inherent to wandering around the wilderness, even along a well-marked trail on a mere seven-kilometer route.
If I’m mauled by a bear (unlikely) or hit my head on a rock (it could happen, but still unlikely) is there some way God can use my death to magnify himself? Ah — I don’t have to be afraid in this regard either.
Our Father is being glorified all the time, and if I live for him, His face will emerge from the stories of my life. But I’m still going to research my hikes for any sign of cliff edges in future.
For further reading:
Can Christians Be Afraid of What Eternity Will Hold?
How to Stay Motivated in Your Relationship with Christ
Photo Credit: ©iStock/Getty Images Plus/mbbirdy
