From INHERITANCE Issue #5 - March 2010

I have always had a fear of heights. This fear is very real. I can’t walk over a metal grate on the sidewalk or cross a rope bridge, much less go bungee-jumping or zip-lining. I do not have a natural athletic ability. I’ve never played any sports. I’ve never even been able to do a pull-up.

So why then would I take up rock climbing? To put it simply, I climb because I need to. Rock climbing is a physical challenge, but it is also a therapeutic experience for me.

Growing up, I struggled with many fears — fear of heights, fear of darkness, fear of being alone. I have vivid childhood memories of timidly venturing down into a dark basement, while singing this little song to myself:

I’m not alone
For my Father is with me
With me wherever I go
Speaking words of faith
Of courage and of love
He is with me
He loves me ... wherever I go.

This song gave me the courage to get through difficult times by reminding me that I had a loving, caring God.

No one would have thought that I struggled with any fears. In fact, I seemed to be really “put together.” I was outgoing and enthusiastic, and I usually had a smile on my face. I grew up in an intact Christian home and was very involved in my Taiwanese-American church and youth group, where I saw many of my high school friends come to know the Lord.

I went off to a Christian college where I met a kind, intelligent Christian man who was also from an intact Christian home. After dating for several years, we got married. To everyone around us, we seemed like the perfect couple: We had met at a Christian college, we had great families who got along, and we had a bright future ahead of us. I was a registered nurse (now a nurse practitioner), and my husband would soon be a doctor. We hosted Bible studies at our house. We even traveled together to Kenya on a medical mission trip for two months.

People envied our marriage. We seemed happy. We thought we were happy.

Five years later, everything fell apart. Issues that had been ignored and repressed over the years reared their ugly heads — issues of control, pride, neglect, emotional abuse, and addiction. I couldn’t take it.

Our marriage couldn’t take it. Our divorce came as a complete shock to everyone — family, friends, and, most of all, myself.

After spending a decade with this man, I didn’t know how to function on my own. I couldn’t eat or sleep — I just cried all the time. I mourned the loss of my dreams, love, and life as I knew it. In a sense, I also mourned the loss of myself, because I had lost myself in this marriage.

Here I was, nearing 30 with no house, no job, and no spouse. Life just hadn’t turned out as planned. I didn’t know how to start over, and I didn’t even have the will or energy to try.

It was during this dark and tumultuous time in my life that my twin sister introduced me to rock climbing. She thought it would be good for me ... I thought she was crazy!

Every time I went up the rope, I would fret about how I would come back down. I would complain if I got stuck at the “crux” (the most difficult point of the climb). I was afraid to hang on the rope, to trust it. I hated the sensation of hanging in mid-air.

Often I would scream or cry when I was climbing, especially as I got higher or the climb got harder. Other climbers told me I would eventually get over my fear, but I didn’t. Each time I climbed, I was still scared. So why did I continue?

Climbing forced me to face my fears. I realized that I had allowed fear to control me instead of taking control of my fears. I was afraid of so many things — afraid of failing (again!), afraid of getting hurt (again!), afraid of being alone (again!). I was afraid of what other people thought of me, afraid of being weak and vulnerable. I was afraid of not being in control, afraid of trusting God completely. I was afraid to trust myself since I had already made so many mistakes.

But I was also tired of being controlled by my fears, of not living life to the fullest and not learning who I was or who God wanted me to be.

Rock climbing is an individual sport. There is just the rock and the climber, focused on breathing and movement, with no one to impress or compete against. It’s the same way in life.

Life is ultimately between God and me. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone else. I learned to focus on the problems presented by the rock, and gradually I developed the skills to overcome them. Each “climb” in life has its own challenge, a “crux” that we need to overcome while trusting God and learning the lessons He has for us.

Climbing also taught me that God is my belayer — He is the one holding the other end of the rope, and He will not let me fall. I learned to trust Him in a newer and deeper way, even during the toughest and scariest of times. And each time I did fall, I had to pick myself up and keep at it, knowing that God would give me the strength to get through each “climb.” With each climb, He was helping me develop better techniques, physical and emotional endurance, and mental focus.

Each time I got to the top of a climb, I felt like it was a miracle.

Since I began climbing, I have suffered several terrifying falls. The first of these occurred when I was bouldering (climbing without rope) outdoors. I fell about 20 feet, onto a “crash pad” (a protective cushion placed at the foot of the boulder in case of falls). Luckily I wasn’t injured, but I was so traumatized that I bawled uncontrollably and knew I might never climb again.

So the very next day, I went to the climbing gym and did the unthinkable — I did the only thing that was even scarier than falling 25 feet. I started learning a new climbing skill — I started lead climbing.

Lead climbing requires even more trust since the falls have the potential of being longer and more dangerous. I had always sworn that I wouldn’t do it. But I couldn’t let the fear regain control over me, so I had to do the only thing that I could think of that was scarier than the fall that I had just experienced.

Do I still get scared when I climb? Of course! The fear is always there, despite having become a better and more experienced climber. Dealing with my fear on the rock helps me deal with life’s challenges, whatever they may be.

It reminds me to let go and trust God completely. It forces me to keep learning to pick myself up after falling down. Sometimes when I climb, I feel again like that little girl walking alone into dark and scary places.

But now, instead of singing a little song, I cling to a deeper faith that God is in control of my life. He is there for me. Despite my fear, I can still climb because I know that God is with me and loves me, wherever I go.