What it Takes to Jump Off a Bridge

The same cool drizzle that chilled us all day seemed to disappear as we stood atop the bridge. Falling some hundred feet below us was a ferocious white water cascade, foaming violently. We said goodbye to the bus and the UK couple and felt the eyes of the entire group asking the same question,

“Are they seriously going to do this?!”

We were joined by two big bros from California who were up for anything. And so there we all stood, looking at the thin red line attached to the bridge and the seemingly infinite abyss that lay below.
The operator of this establishment (if you could call a rope on a bridge and a kid who wasn’t much older than me running it an establishment) came forward with the harness. I could feel the tense hesitation as we all questioned our will once again. Everyone looked around and I knew. This was my time. I felt a sudden and empowering fortitude rise in me. I felt the call of leadership beckon me to set an example and not to succumb to any fear that tempted an excuse. I stepped into the harness as it was fastened to my body. I turned, battle ready toward the group and strode up the embankment then down along the bridge eyes fixed ahead, the cool kiss of the rain now on my face.

My whole life I have been afraid of being out of control. I have avoided experiences like roller coasters and long waterslides or any physical event where I could not control my speed. I know this sounds ridiculous coming from a guy who has ridden his bicycle well over fifty miles and hour and preached an adventurous lifestyle. But more often than not I have shown cowardice, inaction, and struggle with going home regretful rather than going big. I am not just speaking of physical tests but the challenge of faith, life, and becoming a man in a society that has a heck of a time defining what godly masculinity looks like let alone calling young men like me too it.

At the center of the bridge I was met by another fellow who showed me pictures of what I was suppose to do as he couldn’t effectively explain them to me in English. I smiled and laughed to myself how ridiculous what I was doing really was. “Nick you are jumping off a bridge, you know that right. This could be it.”
The lifeline that my trust would have to find rest in was fastened firmly to my chest. I cool breath filled my lungs calming my heart, my limbs relaxed and I took the first step onto the railing.

Being in control is wonderful isn’t it, to know and not worry. To have it all together or at least project that confidence. After becoming a Christian in high school I had many who challenged me to lead others, to step up and present Christianity to the world. I lived it too feeding on the sense of pride others took in me. My heart was mostly in the right place but the desire to please others was (and sometimes still is) my drive. Judgment of others, and myself became the fruit of that drive; so that when sin ate away at my foundation it became difficult to feel the peace and freedom of grace.

Resting my hand on the shoulder of my guide I stood up on the concrete rail. The thunderous ravine below leading to the silvery river and the lush green mountains surrounding spread out before me. Ecuador is beautiful. I took a breath of it. The line pulled on my body reminding of my circumstance. I looked down over the rocks and foam feeling the twinge of death and the nervous ache in the stomach. My toes dangled over the edge of the rail. I lifted a thumb and a smile to others. A calm again swept over me. Stillness.

I felt my legs bend then release. My body flew spread out catching the thin air. A wushed hush rushed into my ears. The smell of life’s richness filled my nose. My eyes stared ahead as the ground sped closer. I fell as fast as the sweet rain. Overwhelmed I offered a prayer in those simple seconds of flight thankful for all I have been blessed with in this life. My eyes closed unable to bare the wondrousness of it all. Peace
My body splayed flipped up side down as the line reached its length swinging me in a smooth arch just over the cascades beneath the bridge. As I reached the zenith of the swing I felt a cry as carnal as Adams first words reach my lips and I bellowed it out over the falls.

After the adrenaline rush subsided the profound peace I had experienced spoke to me. When I look at my life as a Christian the most alive I have felt has almost always coincided with risking something. Putting my pride, my goals, and my life in the capable hands of God trusting that He will catch me when I jump. My life was made for this sort of faith. Faith that God is going to use me if I’m willing to jump. I love the story in Matthew 16 when Peter calls out to Jesus walking on the water. “Lord, if it is you . . . tell me to come to you on the water. Come, he said. Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus” I experienced that way when I stood up in Church on an almost unheard of alter-call Sunday in our church (a visiting pastor made it happen) and I jumped into a life long relationship with Christ. I feel that tug on my chest every time I am confronted with the brokenness in this world, which can be overcome through loving action taught by Jesus. I know that peace when I confess my struggle with sin in the company of both God and fellow strugglers.

One by one we all made the leap, some gracefully, some not so much, but all without regret.

So what does it take to jump? Trust that what holds you is strong. Hope that there is much much more in store for your life. Faith that this life is not the end. Oh and being a little foolish doesn’t hurt.

Can you hear Him? “Come” He dares.