Facing Fear (The SkyRide Tale)

No one asked me if I wanted to ride. My family just said, “We’re getting tickets to ride the SkyRide up to the top because it’s beautiful.”

I didn’t have the courage in that moment to say “I’m terribly afraid of falling and the idea of being suspended high in the air has my heart palpitating.” Instead, I just smiled and nodded my head.

It wasn’t that I lacked the courage to tell them…somewhere deep inside, I lacked the courage to tell myself because I didn’t want it to be so.

I didn’t want to be afraid of this ride that small children were loading up for left and right. I didn’t want to be afraid because I wanted to be able to enjoy the view from the top. I didn’t want to be afraid because I wanted to at least make it to the top.

Just because I didn’t want to be afraid did not change the fact that I actually was afraid. Like deep down in my bones, scarce airflow to my lungs, head throbbing afraid…whether I wanted to be or not.

I could not will myself out of fear, but I could will myself into action.

I decided to take every bit of strong will that exists inside of my humanity and face my fear. I get that this might sound silly, but I was legitimately having palpitations and shortness of breath just waiting in line to board our little 3-person seat.

I faced my fear because I want to be a person so free of fear that I am willing to embrace whatever scenario life delivers with energy and zeal. I didn’t want to be afraid; so, I chose to observe my surroundings, decide whether or not I was actually safe, and then decide to behave as though I wasn’t scared to death.

I white-knuckled my way all the way to the top of the mountain. Listen people…we were suspended over the large cat exhibit with very LARGE cats walking around underfoot as we ascended to the top. I repeat, LARGE CATS. The ride paused a lot on the way up and my tightly crossed ankles were very unsteady hanging in mid-air over the tops of very tall trees. I pulled my phone out of my purse at one point and snagged a pic of my Hardy party of 3 and tried to throw a smile in there. I mean, after all, I needed proof that I actually did this. I was clinging to the safety bar and digging my left arm into my daughter’s leg ensuring that she didn’t somehow slip through the 6” opening.

My feet hit the top of the mountain and I was sweating profusely; it was only 80 degrees and absolutely zero humidity.

We walked around for a few minutes, took a few quick pictures, and hopped back in line because I was READY to go back down to the bottom. I didn’t really consider the ground at the top of the mountain to be the real ground. I wanted to be on the ground, ground…where falling was no longer an option. I didn’t really enjoy the view from the top because I was REALLY focused on getting back down to the ground, ground.

It wasn’t until the moment that I captured this photo that I realized why I was on this torturous ride. At the moment I snapped this picture with one free shaking hand on the way down, God spoke very clearly to my palpitating heart.

“Don’t sacrifice the view because you aren’t willing to take the journey.”

I would like to tell you that I was immediately overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit and that I was no longer afraid; but that would be a lie. I was afraid. I was afraid the whole way down. I was afraid until my feet hit the concrete on the ground, ground.

I was still afraid but I was also proud and grateful. I was proud of myself for having dared to face my fear. I was grateful for the view and the journey it took to get me there and back.

So listen up, friends. We can face our fears and do hard things. We can look our fear right between the eyes and tell it to move aside. We can decide to take chances and choose risks that might reap a reward. We can believe in ourselves enough to not settle for our fears but accelerate into new territory.

We can choose to pep-talk ourselves all the way up the mountain because we are worth the journey, no matter the size or presence of the reward. We must not have our eyes laser focused on outcomes and miss the journey that lies right at our feet.

The journey, after all, is what there is to enjoy. We are not simply here to arrive at a destination, outcome, or reward. We are here to run the race set out before us with an unhindered gait that demonstrates freedom to a bound and broken world.

I’m sure thankful that I didn’t allow my unspoken fear keep my feet on the ground, ground that day. I wouldn’t have just missed the view from the top…I would’ve missed the journey. Which means, I would’ve missed it all.

August 2, 2020

Dani HardyAugust 5, 2020Comment