Day 3: LOOK UP
Look UP
She
stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the rocks fall beneath her feet. It
was hard to see what was on the other side through the fog. She looked behind
her—all that was left of the trees were trunks still smoking and black. She
looked down the canyon—left and right—the water rushed through the gorge, the caps
were white and she could feel the chaos that churned in their power—each rapid
reminding her of the storm that raged inside.
At this
point she had only two choices: jump—and never have to feel any of the pain
ever again—let the water take it all away; or turn around and try hard to find
her way through the wreckage— back to the place that took everything from her,
alone to pretend life was worth living.
Time
stopped as she stood at the greatest crossroad of her life. Looking down . . .
nothing seemed promising, a fatal steep drop, the easy way out. Looking back .
. . a darkened broken picture of what once was. The view of the mess sent chills down her
spine and a pit of fear in her stomach. She didn’t want to die, but she no
longer could live as if she were dead. Her eyes didn’t know where to turn their
gaze, every direction a reminder of her worthlessness. She was not enough. Yes,
this was all the evidence she needed—this moment made everything so clear. For
the first time in her life she had nowhere to turn, and worse . . . no one by
her side.
Did
anyone care she was alone? Would anyone notice if she wasn’t there? Her life—or
her death—wouldn’t effect anyone else, so what did it matter? She wanted to
just jump and make it all go away. Each thought and each glance brought about
more and more fear. She was frozen, broken . . . and alone—her darkest hour.
She thought about her life, each moment leading up to this day—all the broken promises
and pain. She thought about her death and wondered if she had already been
forgotten. She didn’t know who to be angry with: herself, everyone else . . .
maybe God?
“Hey God
. . . are you out there?” She could hear her voice echo through the canyon
walls. “Can you hear me? Can anyone hear me?” She looked behind her again . . .
no one. She looked down the canyon—right and left—nothing. She held her head down
and stared at her bare feet. “I am going to die here . . . and no one will care
. . . and no one can even hear me.” Her pleas began to grow loud, “I am going
to die here . . . please don’t let me die alone. Please let me just have one
do-over. I am so scared, and alone, and humiliated . . . and so . . . so . . .
forgotten.”
Soon the
fog began to surround her. It was so thick even the canyon view began to grow
black—she looked back to more darkness. At the edge of the canyon the world
went black and she was surrounded by her fear of being alone—she stood in the
darkness battling her demons. Hours passed, each one bringing more and more
panic for her need to look down and check behind her. Total darkness, utter
isolation. Her eyes began to scan the world for any glimmer of light—and that
is when she realized she would have to look up.
As her
eyes gazed toward heaven she felt a peace unlike any she had ever known. For a
few minutes time stood still and she could finally see. Like a movie playing on
a screen, she could see herself living a life—her life. She saw a glimpse of
light in her eyes, and beauty in her soul. A magnificent love surrounded her and
for a split second she knew in her heart that God had a plan. In that moment
she could see herself on the other side of the canyon. She was not only living,
she was laughing and smiling . . . and she was standing tall.
But how
could this be? A broken girl, with a broken soul . . . she could never be whole,
or loved. She could never be enough. Or could she? With nothing but a glimpse
of a promise, she set out on her journey in the dark. She decided she would
move forward even if she had to take just one step at a time. For the first
time in her life she would live each day with grace, knowing that she could not
change the past . . . but she would have a future. She was still stuck in the
fog at the edge of a deep canyon, but she was going to live.
And that
is what she did. Some days she could barely see with so many tears in her eyes;
some moments she couldn’t breath with so much pain in her heart, but day-by-day
she began to find herself. You see, the angels couldn’t just pick her up and
set her down across the canyon . . . but they walked with her through darkness,
they battled with her through the valleys and the streams. They showed her the
pathways to take and the hurdles to cross, and eventually they helped her find how
to become that girl—the one smiling and standing on the other side of the
canyon.
She saw
many miracles in those dark days, but the greatest gift she received was the rocky
course—the bumps and the bruises—that taught her how to fight. It isn’t until she hit rock bottom that she
realized she was only half way living when she was at the top. Strength came
when she had to find—for herself—just
how strong she was. That fight is what showed her that she had worth—that she
was enough for God. It wasn’t an easy road, or a paved path . . . but she
fought every step of the way. And as she looked toward heaven, she was reminded
how—not why—her journey was different than the one she had planned, and she knew without a doubt that she was never
alone. He was there through that fire, He was standing with her by that raging
water, He was catching the pebbles that crumbled under her feet, He felt every
pain, He heard every fear, and He wiped every tear. He was always there, but the
moment she could finally feel Him . . . was when she decided not to look down,
not to look back and wish for what was, but . . . to LOOK UP.
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