I climb the tower. The nice, large man binds my feet to a bungee chord. I stand on the edge of a platform 144 feet off the surface of the Nile. To my left and to my right I can see grade 5 rapids raging around me, but it is still where I am. If my rope breaks though, I will be carried through the rapids.
I look down.
It's a long way to fall. But I am excited.
Hands up on the bar in front of me, slide my feet out to the edge. Heart pounding.
"Don't worry, we've got you. And we won't push you, unless you ask us to" a voice comes from behind me. I become conscious of a song by The Offspring being played behind me. With the music thumping in my ears, I ask him to push me.
I am suspended in the air for a second. Then I realize I am dropping, falling. A scream of terror. Then the exhilaration hits and I scream for joy.
Now, in this scenario I get calmly lowered into the boat below, after my face hits the water and I bounce up and down a few times. It's a little different with God.
I remember leaving for Uganda. It was kind of like bungee jumping... reaching the door of the plane and realizing there is no going back. It's kind of scary, but really exciting. This is it, you're making the move.
Tonight I found out that I will have the position of youth director/minister/personwhodoeswhatever next year. As I went in for my interview the other night, I couldn't help but feel like I was watching as my feet got tied together and clumsily shuffling to the edge. Right now, my ears are pounding with classic hard core rock like The Offspring and I feel that lurch in my stomach as something big is coming.
Can I still go back? Yes. No one will push me. But what do I say?
"Go ahead. Push me."
And so God does. With a few words of encouragement, mostly the prayer of St. Patrick's Breastplate which I carried in loaded on my phone, which I read seconds before entering the interview.
I have a while to stand here, to contemplate the jump I am about to make. And just like when I went bungee jumping, I am THRILLED.
You see, when I came back from Uganda, I got lowered into a safety boat. I got a little love and care with some other MKs (hey Bioloa MK seminar people!) and then I started climbing a hill to go bungee jumping again.
But here's what I learned about bungee jumping with God: it doesn't end with the bungee jump. No, you do what my mom and I did right before we left you Uganda: moments after the jump you climb into a raft and brave those rapids.
And it hurts. And it's hard. And it's a wild, brilliant ride that you wouldn't trade for the world.
What keeps it from being scary? Knowing, simply knowing, that you are proverbially still bungee corded to someone in the sky, who will make sure you make the journey safely.
And so, let's go bungee jumping again!
(I plan to use this as a theme when I'm working with the youth. Because this is kind of how I see ministry)
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