Imagine being 7000 ft above sea level.

You’ve climbed 4 seasons in the past 6 hours.

A veil of clouds snakes its way to the earth behind you.

Ahead of you, a strip of ground as narrow as the white lines that divide highways;

A death drop hugging the left,

A short, craggy wall of loose earth to the right.

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The dancing wildflowers, the curvaceous hills,

The air so clean you were tempted to lick it is now a distant memory.

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Suddenly, you feel alone.

The heart that danced earlier has crawled to some space 6 feet under.

The body that was just alive and soul-full enters rigor mortis.

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A whisper floats in the space between you and the summit.

Hand outstretched,

Eyes locked on you.

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You can do this…

Come.

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A whimper rattles your lungs and drools.

The rigor gives way to tremor.

Eyes glossy,

Desperately trying to cage the glaring thoughts-

“I’m gonna die!

I can’t do this!”

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Fear will shackle you into a prison of limitations.

It will tell you that the chains are the furthest you can go,

to tuck your tail between your legs, turn back, and curl into the cold corner.

It will tell you that the jail that has always been “home” will always be home.

But that’s a lie.

Chains can be broken,

Locks have keys,

A prison has a way of escape.

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There’s a field called freedom beyond your fears.

A hand still outstretched, waiting for you to grasp it,

To walk across that strip of fear

Where He won’t let the precipice claim you.

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The truth is…you can do this.

​You just need to trust that He will take you beyond what you can see.

​So come.