The Swing

"Light is sweet, and it pleases the eyes to see the sun." - Ecclesiastes 11:7

Nate squinted up into the bright sky, then looked around as a cool breeze blew through the spotted, dancing patches of sunlight. The wind sang softly under a towering, whispering canopy of branches. Behind him, Nate heard the laughter of his classmates - his class. The high school senior class. Most were swimming or canoeing, but he'd taken the time, the moment, to sneak away and just be alone with God.

His journey had brought him near the ropes course. Dangling from branches and strong anchored cables, various wooden obstacles bobbed and weaved in the wind like mute wind chimes. Nate closed his eyes and contemplated the peaceful scene around him. Birds chirped in the trees above. To his left, something scurried through the underbrush. There was a subtle breeze that brought a moment's relief from the humid Florida day.

Around him, a silence permeated. No one climbed or sweated or challenged the obstacles... at least not yet. For now there was quiet, the moment beautiful.

Nate found an empty wooden bench, sat, and sensed dampness through his jeans from an earlier refreshing rain.

His eye followed a metal cable from its anchor in the ground to its attachment point at the top of a fifty foot creosote pole. This was what everyone called, "The Swing". Many of his classmates considered the swing to be fun, but to Nate, the thought of getting on it held a nearly paralyzing fear.

He swallowed hard and thought about what his class would be asking him to do within the next hour: They'd want him to ride this swing. They'd want him to be strapped in some kind of harness and pulled to the top of the pole and released. And when he thought about it, it made his knees shake, his throat go dry, his stomach to loop crazily.

How can I do this, God? I can't let them see me so afraid... again.

Again.

He thought back to his 9^th grade retreat. He'd been in this same spot, although the bench had been different. He remembered the sudden urge to run. It had been his turn, and everyone had insisted - urged - him to go on the swing. But inside, the fear had paralyzed him. Just remembering the moment almost made him cry. He'd felt so embarrassed, so inadequate, so - so insecure. Nate didn't like heights; at least that's what he told himself. But when he really analyzed his situation it was the feeling of being out of control that really bothered him. To strap on the harness was to relinquish control to others. Could he trust like that? He wasn't sure.

"This should be easy, shouldn't it?" he said aloud. "Why am I so scared, God?"

The wind whispered again.

He held his palms to his face and prayed silently for strength.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Someone touched him on the shoulder and he started.

"Hey!" He looked up into the face of Julie, a girl who he'd known since Kindergarten. In the past two years he'd grown to appreciate her friendship in new and refreshing ways. She was beautiful, on the inside and out, and always one of the first to stop and pray for someone. Her heart for others was something she never hid. It was his favorite thing about her.

"Ready for the swing?" she asked.

Nate swallowed hard. "Uh, yeah." Was that lying? He wondered. Was he really ready?

Within moments the rest of the class loudly descended on the area and after some brief instructions from two camp assistants, the rides began. Nate watched as classmate after classmate took their turn. Maybe they'd forget he was over here on this bench. Maybe no one would even notice him ---

"Come on, Nate! It's your turn!"

He wasn't sure who yelled it -- perhaps Tim Bowers - but he'd been spotted now. Would they let him off easy?

A chorus of cheers started.

"Come on, Nate!"

"Natester, You gotta ride it!"

"Everyone rides, man! Get over here!"

Tim Bowers ran over and grabbed his arm leading him none too gently to the loading area. Somehow he went through the mechanical motions, stepping through the loops, cinching the harness tight around his legs and chest, helmet strapped firm. The camp helper, a petite woman with a nametag that read ANGIE, double checked the clips and buckles.

"You're all set," she told him.

He was all set... on the outside .

"You can do it, Nate!" another classmate yelled.

He could do it? His mind queried his spirit. For the first time he felt a hope within him. Could he do this? Really do this? Would his resolve fade as soon as they pulled him to the top? Would he, whimpering, have to beg to be let down?

The previous rider was being unclipped, and before he knew what was happening, his feet moved. One in front of the other. He was walking. Down the slope. Down to the ropes that he would soon trust his life to hold him.

The other camp assistant, a friendly guy with no name badge, asked him to step up on a ladder, which he did, a slight tremble in his forearms.

"What's your name," he asked.

"N... Nate."

"Just relax, Nate. Just...one second..." - there was a click - " Okay, lean back." The assistant studied him for a moment before asking, "You want to go to the top?"

Nate leaned back and his harness tightened, feet dangling, swaying gently. There was no ladder or support beneath him now...

The assistant swept the ladder off to the side. In a voice that wasn't meant to carry far, he asked, "How high do you want to go, Nate?"

Though his voice was low, it didn't seem to matter. A chorus of voices rang out on his right. "All the way, Nate!"

It was then that Nate looked. Really looked. Standing alongside him were, what? Ten? Fifteen of his classmates? Yeah, his classmates. His friends.

He could do this. He really could.

"To the top, Nate!" he saw his encourager then. Julie. She was smiling, rope in hand. The rope that would pull him to the top. She'd already ridden the swing. "It's great, Nate," she offered. "Go to the top!"

A lump rose in his throat and he looked at the assistant and nodded.

The assistant called out, "Everyone pull! Nate's going to the top!"

He felt a tug from behind and his harness was jerked backwards. He watched as the ground pulled away, branches rose around him. He was rising into sunshine! But there was more! Oh, so much more was happening right now. The realization hit him: he wasn't rising on his own. No, he was rising by the efforts of his classmates, his friends. And it was then that Nate relaxed, and trusted the ride, trusted these friends - trusted God -- to take him. In that golden moment he allowed God in, allowed Him to take his fears and wrap Him in an encircling and protective love.

He was safe. There was no fear. Sure, his mind told him he was forty feet in the air, but he was being held by God, and God was using his friends below to take him to this place. He looked down at them as their faces expectantly turned upward, waiting for the drop. They watched him and they held him secure, and he knew none would let go of the rope. None. Their grip held firm as the camp assistant's voice began to call out.

"Ready, Nate? One. Two. Three. GO!"

A clatch sound and the pressure on the harness dropped away in a rush of wind and ground and trees and... he was at the bottom and now soaring upward. Up! Up into sunshine!

He sensed himself yelling. But it wasn't from fear. No, he yelled in exhilaration. For he was safe! Truly safe!

Then, he did something he thought he'd never do, no, not in a hundred years: He let go of the ropes that held his harness! He let go, and spread his arms to his sides and in that moment he wasn't at a camp. He wasn't attached to ropes that swung him beneath tall poles. He felt sunshine on his face, warm, inviting and there was a rushing presence past his ears - a presence that was more than mere air. Throwing his arms wide, the world fled away.

He floated in a world of complete acceptance. There were branches above him, and a breeze caressed his face again, and there was sunshine. Except this sweet light that filtered down through dancing branches was alive. Alive like visible notes streaming from a symphony. He could almost taste its glittering substance. He laughed aloud. What an amazing sensation!

And the sky - a blue that almost hurt his eyes, yet he wanted to look, to gaze, to stare, to drink in the beauty of such a simple, vibrant, luminous color. But there was more than just color here. There was life, there was - he struggled to put words to these sensations...

There was Someone. And not just anyone...

The Christ.

Jesus' love was all around Nate. Jesus' all encompassing love.

Nate took a deep breath and the air felt energized as though someone had stirred a trillion oxygen molecules into a basin of electric ozone... then topped it off with a bubbling, exhilarating fragrance. Clarity flooded his mind and his body fell away, again and again. A dizzying, yet comforting awareness passed through him.

He wasn't alone.

It hit him like a belly flop into a warm pool of liquid nectar. Tears came suddenly, easily, as he looked above and around him. But more than looking, he also saw. He was seeing with his heart.

"Nate."

"Yes, God?"

"I love you."

"You...love...me?"

"I created you, Nate. You are mine. I love you."

Loved? Loved by God?

The words, the notion, the truth - THE TRUTH - flooded him. The ancient, Holy Presence that surrounded him, knew him. Knew his faults, knew his failures, knew his struggles... knew him through and through. And still, this Holy God chose to love him. Fully. Completely. A cross stood out in his mind, a bloody symbol of the lengths that God had gone to rescue him. To save him. To love him.

God loved him! He wanted to scream it! To shout it! He stretched out his arms to God's presence, the hairs along his skin screamed in pleasure. Take me now, God! Take me now! Let the ropes break! Let this life end. He was ready. Ready to bask and drown in this God created bliss. This air that he floated in, the sunshine that warmed him, the tree branches that made shadows fleet across his closed eyelids - Nate took it in. Took it in and let it penetrate his soul. This is where he was made for. A foretaste of the heaven and the ecstasy that awaited him. His heart screamed with joy. "I LOVE YOU, GOD!" He wanted to dive into this love, dive deep and never come back up!

"Way to go, Nate!" called Julie's encouraging voice.

Julie?

He was pulled back to the present. He grabbed the ropes. How long had he been gone?

He opened his eyes and looked over to his right as he completed another arc of travel. His classmates were resetting things for another rider. Christ's immense love still washed over his bones like slowly poured honey. His fingers tingled and he flexed them unconsciously.

"How was it?" Julie asked as his momentum slowed.

How did he answer that? He let two more swing passes complete before he noticed that she was still waiting for his response. His toes tingled now.

"Wonderful," he simply offered, a lump rising in his throat. The wind blew cool on his face where more tears waited to spill. Could she see that from this distance? Would she think him a weak person for crying?

She smiled a knowing look and swept hair from her eyes. Nate wondered if she knew this love too? Yeah, he decided. Behind that smile, and that look, was a woman of faith; a daughter of this marvelous, loving God.

The ladder came, and as he was unclipped he glanced over and saw Julie rejoining the other students as they grabbed the rope lying on the ground, readying for the next rider. Back on firm ground, he trudged up the hill, tugging to release his helmet's clip. To his left he overheard Julie's encouraging voice: "I believe you can do this, Bethany."

Bethany began to object in her high pitched voice. "I'm scared... it's so high..."

"Look at Nate," Julie prompted, softly touching the girl's shoulder. "He rode it."

Nate couldn't help himself; he grinned and caught Julie's sparkling eyes. A tacit message, unspoken, passed between them. He found himself at a loss for words - yet... Yet he peacefully realized that none were necessary. She continued to smile as he passed by. There was no doubt now in Nate's mind. God's Spirit also lived within this lovely young woman.

The silent prayer came effortlessly. Thank You for Julie, God. Thank You for this sister in Christ.

Harness undone, he draped it over the wooden fence and in a bit of a daze he stumbled a short distance from the swing, resting a shoulder against a tall, shaded maple tree.

What had happened?

He'd seen with new eyes.

He could learn to trust. He could learn to lean on God, and... others.

On the swing, he had experienced love. God had shown him a glimpse of His immense, unconditional love.

He smiled to himself, then, unexpectedly, a torrent of emotions hit and he brought his hands quickly to his face, his shoulders shaking with sobs that ran deep into his soul. He sank downward to his knees, feeling the tree's bark slide across his shoulder.

"Thank You, God," he choked out. "Thank You for Your sweet, sweet presence... and peace."

He would fear no more, for he was safe. Safe and free, to love.

Through blurred eyes he looked over at his senior class as another "One, Two, Three, Go!" was shouted and one more rider shrieked in excitement. Beyond the swing, on a distant wooden picnic table, a classmate suddenly stood out to him. Trevor. Trevor Bennings stood out. Nate took note of the clenched hands, the hesitant posture. Trevor hadn't been on the swing, had he?

No, he hasn't, God softly spoke in Nate's soul.

Around him a cool breeze blew through the patches of sunlight, under a towering, whispering canopy of branches.

Nate wiped at his tears, then rose and began walking toward Trevor.

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..." - 1 John 4:18a

©2008 Ron Masters