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As the bus pulled into the lot, I could see tiny drifting specks in the sky. Taking my place in the spectators’ stand, my eyes were riveted to the sky divers’ faces as they descended onto the landing green. For the next two hours, I flitted and scurried from one end of the field to the other, furiously snapping pictures of this stimulating activity. That encounter lit a fire of desire that smoldered for many months on the backburner of my mind...
Last September, I promised my 21 year old grandson in Washington State that I would take my first leap with him, as this was a new interest in his life. The weather report was sketchy for Silverdale, but we drove up there from Tumwater in hopes that the low cloud cover would lift by early afternoon. I watched the instructional video, signed my life away on the obligatory forms and kept an eye on the sky. One hour passed, then two. We took their advice to try another day. However, we returned to Arizona with no break having been seen in the weather.
In early October, traveling southeast to Eloy from Apache Junction, we watched the dust blow disturbingly in the fields flanking the highway in Arizona’s agricultural country. Within the hour we spotted the unobtrusive signs to the Sky Dive Arizona, the largest jump site in the world. Again, I watched the video and signed the forms, and waited. Bad news. The winds were too high and dangerous for divers. Again, we took their advice to try another day.
Now, it has been brought to my attention a couple of times, the idea that I might be tempting fate to try again, already having been twice cancelled. But my response was ‘Third time’s a charm!” Others’ voiced the opinion that I might be foolish to want to sky dive at age 66!
But the following week, sunshine and deep blue skies confirmed I was ready to leap from an airplane at 13,000 feet, free-fall for sixty seconds at 120 miles per hour, and then float to earth attached to a competent instructor. This challenge meant more to me than a few moments of free-falling exhilaration. It would also illustrate my trust in God in a visual way.
My assigned aerial photographer asked if I was nervous. When I said I was relaxed and ready to go, he quipped, “What is wrong with you?” He would jump out ahead of me and said, “Smile real big so your cheeks won’t flap in the wind.”
I turned to face the instructor calling for his next client. His friendly face exuded confidence. Gear straps hung suspended from his uplifted hands, as he gestured for me to step into the harness. In assuring tones, he detailed each move he would be making and his expectations of me. The process gained momentum and I was propelled smoothly along, mesmerized by the absolute trust he inspired. He looked directly into my eyes when he spoke and his hands were firm on my shoulders. Because of his previous 7,000 jumps and his dedicated love for the sport, doubt had no room to sprout.
A steady commentary accompanied our gradual ascent to jumping altitude. Each moment brought us closer to securely hooking up together for the big moment. There was no time to fear or waver in this unretractable commitment. Before I knew it, we were out the door and falling in space. I was reminded, “Keep your head up, your legs back and make a W with your arms. At 5,000 feet, we’ll deploy the chute; you’ll feel a big jerk, and then all will be quiet.” The roar of free fall did become a peaceful silence and serenity engulfed the controlled descent. It was heavenly...
“Put your feet on mine when we approach landing, so mine will hit the ground first.” This sounds fine until I realize my knees are up and I fall forward at impact. He saves my nosedive and says, “Good job, you did it!” As soon as our harnesses are unhooked, we share a big hug.
I knew in my heart that I gave my all to show what my faith and trust in God was like. Not just to see me safely through the sky dive for its own sake, but to vividly show how I trust Him with all the concerns of my heart! Truth or dare?
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