Taking the Leap (of Faith)

Today encapsulated in a microcosm our Ugandan experience thus far.  The day began with the figurative becoming the literal, and ended with an inspiring example of someone who jumped well before we did and dove much deeper.

It took my colleague Jay Milbrandt the better part of a year to convince me to join a Pepperdine Global Justice trip to Uganda.  I have never been good at delving into the unknown.  But since it was only for two weeks, the short- and long-term risks seemed minimal.  Over the next eighteen months of short visits, God opened my heart to the idea of a longer stay.  He did the same for my family, and so after much prayer and deliberation, we made the leap.

Those who know me know how deathly afraid of heights I am.  Like many of my phobias and weaknesses, I can trace my fear back to a single event.  In 1986, I went with my friend Seneca to Austin to watch my older brother John Pole Vault in the Texas Relays.  While we were there, we ventured over to San Antonio and went to the top of the Space Needle.  Up to that point, I had never been afraid of heights.  So I walked over to the edge and looked down.  Instantly, the ground seemed to rush up at me and I turned into pudding.  I slinked back and sat on the floor against the wall shaking and sweating.  Since then, I get weak and anxious even when I see someone else up high.  I can’t even look down from a fourth-story window without growing faint.  This, of course, provides numerous opportunities for jokes at my expense and stunts aimed at freaking me out.  I am an easy mark.

Yesterday, the Gashes and the Gregstons (our Twin Family) drove to Jinja, the source of the Nile River.  The plan was for all of us to go white water rafting, swim at the pool, and hang out with Katie Davis and her family.  (Thursday was a national holiday in Uganda, so we decided to make it a four-day weekend).  After we arrived at our hotel yesterday, we tracked down a brochure for a rafting company to look into making reservations for the next day.  The brochure also indicated that the same company offered bungee jumping over the Nile from a 145-foot platform.  When we called, we learned that the ten of us could go rafting at 10:00 a.m., and those who wanted to do so, could bungee jump before we set adrift on the Nile.

My impulse to directly confront, and try to conquer, my fear of heights came and went like a flash of lightning – big and brilliant when it hits, then immediately gone.  My impulse didn’t even have the delayed thunder.  What did come were the taunts and jeers from my family.  “Dad won’t do it – he’s too scared.”  My comeback reply was devastating.  “No I’m not, I just don’t wanna do it.”  Simply devastating.  Not.

Over the course of the evening and into this morning, I did some thinking and reflecting.  Prior to coming to Africa, Jessica was deathly afraid of needles.  Yet she now draws blood from HIV- and Malaria-positive patients.  I swore (for fear) I would never drive in Uganda, but now I drive all over the city and drove the 80 miles to Jinja.  Prior to leaving our hotel this morning, I decided that it was time to face my fears, but I didn’t tell anyone.  Instead, I let Joshua and Jessica continue to taunt me.  When we arrived and saw how high the platform was, Joshua’s taunting ceased and Jessica backed off some, I think because she saw me get weak again.  When it came to time to pay, Joshua told me that he didn’t want to do it anymore, but I bought three tickets anyway.  (Jennifer is too young, and Joline is still dealing with some vertigo issues).  The Gregstons got four (Jayne was too young).

Joshua was still pretty convinced that I couldn’t go through with it, and I think he assumed that he could back out if I did, so he didn’t protest too much . . . until we climbed the scrillion stairs to the top of the platform.  The plan was for Jay (41) and Jared (12) to go first on a tandem jump, then Jill (41) would go solo, then I would go solo, then Joshua (14) would go solo, then Jessica and Jake (both 16) would tandem.  After Jay and Jared jumped first (with no small amount of consternation on Jared’s part) and didn’t die (though they hit the water pretty hard before bouncing back up), I relaxed a bit.  Joshua reacted differently, though I think he still thought I would wuss out.

Jill’s solo jump was a thing of beauty (though she was quite nervous before takeoff), and it convinced me that I could actually do it.  It convinced Joshua, however, that he couldn’t.  Accordingly, we shifted gears and I decided that Joshua and I would tandem.  As we got strapped to the bungees, I had numerous flashes of panic, but maintained full bladder and bowel control.  But when we hopped and scooted to the edge (ankles bound pretty tightly), the internal muscles threatened to relax in ways that would prove quite fragrant and embarrassing.  Fortunately, I had evacuated my storage tanks (twice) between the time I decided to jump and climbing the tower.

Letting go of the bar above our heads was one of the most psychologically difficult things I have ever done.  We just stood there on the edge of the platform in a tight father-son embrace and listened as they counted us down.  “Three . . . two . . . one.”

Hanging On

Fall.

Free Falling

Touch.

Touching the Nile

Rebound.

If we had time before rafting, I would have jumped again.  Alone.  At least I think I would have.

As alluded to earlier, this mirrors our decision to walk out to the edge, let go of any safety supports, cling tightly to each other (and to God), and then fall.  We feel like we have done lots of touching.  And we are ready for another rebound.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we keep jumping back into Uganda in the coming years.  It is exhilarating and teaching us in whole new ways to embrace each other and to embrace the One who protects and sustains us.

Tomorrow, I will write about our wonderful afternoon today with Katie Davis – an impressive young woman whose life (and book) is inspiring tens of thousands around the world.  We are thrilled to have the chance to participate in her ministry tomorrow.  Here is a picture of our kids with hers after an afternoon of swimming together.

Gashes, Gregstons, and Davises