The Basics of Rappelling- Personal Extreme Sports Experience

There I stood, shaky knees, sweaty palms and all. It had come down to this moment in time: all the safety training and practice, all the questions and fears. The eyes of what seemed like a thousand people penetrated my skin like a barrage of needles. No, this was not high school graduation. In fact, it was a far cry from it. Somehow, backing over the edge of a jagged cliff, with only the guarantee of a rope tied to my waist and a rock, did not logically compute in my tiny, seventeen year-old brain.

"Just back over and sit down in the air!" hollered Edwin, my church youth pastor, from the ground, a good 200 feet below. "Extend your legs and kick out against the surface of the cliff, just like we practiced! This is a faith exercise, Joshua!"

"Thanks a lot, Edwin," I thought to myself. "That's just what I need to hear right now. My faith is just fine, thank you very much. I don't need to hurl myself over the edge of Death Mountain to discover that. And besides, what kind of man of God are you that you would try to kill one of His most precious children?"

How did I even get myself into this predicament? Surely this was not a good idea. I had seen far too many movies depicting the unskilled or unsuspecting climber plunging thousands of feet to their gruesome death because of an unforeseen complication. Speaking from personal experience, I highly advise against watching the film Vertical Limit before going on such a rappelling trip. It's just a bad idea altogether.

But here I was, at the point of no return, perfectly poised on the precipice of a potentially life-threatening position. I felt as if I had been standing here for hours. Perhaps it was because I had. My fellow youth groupies were steadily growing weary of my indecisiveness.

"Just do it!" shouted one of them from below. "You're perfectly safe!"

"We all made it down just fine before you!" yelled another.

I inhaled, taking in the deepest breath I had ever experienced in my short life. I prayed. God if this is it, I'm ready to come home to You. I've lived a good life. Just let it be quick and painless, Lord. Rapture my falling body from the air. Amen. I closed my eyes and backed over. Somehow my legs extended with a force not of their own. My feet found the bumpy surface of the cliff face and pushed off, as I slowly, steadily rappelled downward.

With my youth pastor guiding my safety line through his sturdy hands, I safely reached the ground, where I was greeted by a dozen smiles and hugs of encouragement. I had found the faith to overcome my fear. It felt amazing. I had rappelled down the face of a 200 foot cliff. I smiled a smile of accomplishment, unbuckling my harness, and discarding the safety line. Somewhere in the distance I heard the angels of Heaven singing, uniting in joyful chorus, trumpeting out the message of my triumphant feat of bravery, courage, and honor. All of nature burst forth in a splendorous melody of praise. And then...there was another noise. Not a laugh or a song. It was something else. Something grotesque, as if from the depths of the deepest, darkest, most inward bowels of a person's being...for it was indeed the sound one makes when one regurgitates one's stomach contents.

There I stood, shaky knees, sweaty palms, and all, hunched over, facing the ground, heaving from the adrenaline rush I had just experienced. I had learned faith. Now it was time to learn a lesson in avoiding pride.