I recently found myself in a place I never, ever thought I’d be— harnessed-in, 50-ft up a rock wall in the Washington Gorge with nothing between me and the ground but the rope I was tied to. If you would have asked me five years ago, or honestly even one year ago, I would have told you there was no way I would try rock climbing. (Enter my oh-so-convincing husband.)
In an effort to beat the quarantine blues, Nick developed a love for rock climbing through a friend at work. What began as a simple conversation, turned into a full-on obsession for him. We purchased all the gear, watched hundreds of climbing videos, climbed indoors and outdoors, the whole deal. Now, I wouldn’t say I’m anywhere near as good as him— or brave as him— but I put on my best smile and save any fear-tears for when I’m out of earshot on the wall.
You see, I’ve never been comfortable without the sturdy ground below me. Never a fan of adrenaline, heights, or anything of the sort. I was never athletic or brave enough to try anything outside of my comfort zone. Nick often calls me a “nester of all things,” because I’ve always found comfort in the consistent. I’m perfectly happy sitting in my flower pot, never pushing my roots past the contained space I’m in.
Now, I’m sure this is the part of the blog where you expect me to say, “BUT NOW EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT!” Well, it’s not. Even after months of climbing, I still get sweaty palms, shaky feet, and an overwhelming sense of, “I can’t do this.” It’s in those moments when I freeze up and yell down, “I’m going to fall,” that Nick usually yells back, “Trust your feet!” In his educated opinion, I climb too much with my arms and don’t push enough with my legs.
It wasn’t until this past week, 30-ft. up a climb that’s a grade above my usual comfort level that I thought, “It’s not my feet I don’t trust— it’s the knot.” Climbers are taught from the very beginning how to tie a safe figure-8 knot that tightens when you fall. I check my knot at least a half dozen times before I climb and ask Nick to always double-check my work. It’s not the slipping and failing the route that I’m scared of; I am terrified of my own failure that could cause me to fall.
I’m facing that on and off the climbing wall right now, and I’m sure you know the feeling.
About 6 weeks ago, I quit my job in Portland to give me the headspace and time to prepare for our move to Denver. Nick was starting a new role in a new plant, so it was time to wrap up our 2-year stint in the PNW and get settled in Colorado.
I was more than happy at the time to stop working because I truly wouldn’t have been able to get everything done that needed to without the additional free time. Now that we’ve been in Colorado for two weeks, I’m beyond anxious. Why, you ask? For the same reason I was so happy in January— I’m unemployed.
It’s funny how quickly you can turn a blessing into a burden with your frame of mind. When I wasn’t job searching, I was elated to have time to pack, clean, and get in the right headspace for moving. Now that I am, I’m worried, stressed, anxious, etc. I’ve applied to nearly 40 different companies with some applications resulting in multiple interviews and some in crickets. At a time when unemployment is at an all-time high, in a market that’s oversaturated with people just like me, it’s hard not to let the reality of the situation crush you. Honestly, it’s hard to trust the knot.
As I opened up my Bible this week, something I haven’t done during this entire move, I was flipping through my old notes for inspiration when I landed in Habakkuk. Just a mere 5-pages long, I had written on the first page of the book, “Habakkuk means to both wrestle and embrace.” I don’t remember what sermon or podcast taught me this, but it peaked my interest.
In this book, Habakkuk is crying out to God, “How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?” (1:2) Habakkuk, my man, I feel you. So many moments over the past few weeks, I’ve felt myself crying out to God, “How long will this go on? Will I have a job in 2-days, 2 weeks, 2 months?!” With so much unknown, it’s easy to feel discouraged, unheard, and alone.
God responds to Habakkuk’s complaints (they are literally titled complaints in the Bible) twice. When the Lord responds, Habakkuk prays a long prayer, asking for strength as he waits.
“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength: he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.” Habakkuk 3:17-19 NLT
I don’t know what you’re going through right now. You may be in a season of change, growth, and waiting, like me. You may be on the tallest mountain top, praising God for his blessings. No matter where you are, I see you and so does God. Though it may seem hard to trust anything right now, even God at times, He knows the plans He has for your life.
Even if you slip and fall, He is the knot that enables us to tread on the heights; you just have to trust Him.
Looking for resources? Download The Bible App today to learn more.