Holding On

A few years ago, I took a road trip to Canada. On the way back, I stopped at this incredible view point to take pictures and just enjoy the magnificence and beauty of nature. I was standing on this rock overlooking the fog-filled valley. Just below the rock was at least a 100 foot drop. As I stood there feeling safe, my foot slipped and I fell and barely caught myself. Legs dangling over the edge, I held on with all my strength.

That moment is how I feel in my spiritual life. Once strong, stable, secure, I got cocky. One mis-step and I slipped. Only, no one noticed. Now here I am, barely holding on, but quickly losing my foothold. Every move I make seems to weaken my grasp and pull me further over the edge. At times I feel like giving up, letting go and falling into the abyss. I don't feel I have the strength to keep trying, but I know the fall would be the death of me.

How many of us are in a place in life where we are barely holding on, thinking that if we just hold on long enough,we'll be healed, restored, rescued? I can't tell you how often people come to me for prayer, encouragement, a Bible verse or something - anything to alleviate the pain or give them a glimmer of hope. They are reaching out for a hand to pull them out of despair or a boost to get back on solid ground.

They don't see that I'm dangling over the edge, in need of rescuing myself. I keep the smile on my face, ever the picture of strength and confidence, afraid to let my weakness show. Why is it so difficult to ask for help? Do I really think I can do this on my own? Is it the fear of being judged? Isn't it better to ask for help, admit I am weak and see the disappointment in a few human faces, than to fall and see the disappointment in the eyes of my Father - simply because I was too prideful, or too ashamed (or both) to ask for help?

We are so quick to pass judgement on others. We lack compassion for the liars, cheaters, thiefs or even the negative coworker that we have to "deal with" every day. We judge the drunks on the street, the homeless, panhandlers, prostitutes and druggies. We look down our noses at them and tell ourselves "God helps those who help themselves." We wonder why they don't just clean up their act, get a job and contribute to society or why they are more concerned about their next high than about those who are affected by their actions. I wonder sometimes, if it is our own fear or realization that each of us is only a few bad choices away from being in their shoes - lost, desperate and just looking for anything to numb the pain for the remainder of this miserable existence. They are broken, but they are still alive - barely holding on. There is still hope.

Dangling from that rock, all I could say was "Oh Jesus!" In His name, I found hope, strength, meaning. No one else was around and my own physical strength had nothing to do with my salvation. It is by the grace of God, alone, that I am still here.

But...

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on.
I'm holdin on.
I'm holding on
I'm barely holding on to you
("Broken" chorus - Lifehouse)