Hold on tight…

I have two very vivid, fear-filled memories from childhood. The first is being buckled into one of those awful little bike seats on the back of my dad’s bike. I mean, they’re a little bit more advanced today, but I’m pretty confident the seat I was in was manufactured in the ’70s. The terrifying wobble as he got onto his seat and began the arduous work of pedalling left me sitting there with only one viable option: to trust that he would get that wiggly old bike into an upright riding position.

The other memory is of some sort of horseback riding trail experience on one of our summer vacations. I must have been really small because I believe I fit in front of my dad in the saddle. He had his arms wrapped around me, and the instructions I had were to sit still and hold on tight. It was a perfect instruction as I looked to the side and saw the edge of a plunging cliff beside me. No big deal. It was in that moment that I knew where my genetic nervousness had come from. My dad wasn’t too sure about such an expedition either, but there we both were, with only the option of trusting a trail-riding old horse that hopefully would keep steady feet.

Did we have any other option than to hold on tight in those moments? No. No, we did not.

This weekend, I’m getting to tell the junior youth class at my church that holding on tight to Jesus has been the best decision I’ve ever made.

There was this time, right before Jesus returned to heaven, that he said, “In this life you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world.” He was not wrong, what a relief.

I remember being asked before, “Did you get mad at God when you went through that difficult thing in your life?”

My response came as quickly as if I were a contestant on Jeopardy.

“No, I didn’t. There was no time for even thinking that. In fact, I held on tighter to Him.”

I’d argue that during the difficulties of my life, that’s when I have felt the presence of God most strongly. It was during those times that I literally had no choice but to hold on tight to Him.

I guess that’s what I want my kids and all the other kids to know, too. That no matter what life throws at you, if you’re connected tightly to God, it’s going to be ok.

“The Lord is with me. I will not be afraid. What can mere human beings do to me?” – Psalm 118:6

What a freeing way to live life.

I remember being so sick a few years ago; it felt like I was watching my body disintegrate, but one night, the realization came to me that in the midst of all of that, my soul could remain untouchable.

It was like, “Ok, body, I see you failing in all the ways.” It felt like a spiritual attack on my life, but I knew so strongly that my joy couldn’t be touched. My faith couldn’t be touched; my eternity forever with Jesus in heaven could not be touched.

I met my husband years ago while working at a summer camp on Vancouver Island. One of the camp features was their adventurous high ropes course. Now, if you know me and remember how I just told you I get nervous when clipped into baby bike seats and riding on top of a horse, exactly how well do you envision me tackling a high ropes adventure course?

Wild at heart, she is not.

But there I was, standing in a group with my future husband, trying to make a good, brave impression.

Oh my.

I stepped into the harness. I clipped to that old carabiner, and I climbed that big, stupid pole that I was supposed to jump off of.

A swing. I had been on swings before, but I really preferred the old-fashioned design where THEY WERE ATTACHED TO PLANET EARTH.

I jumped, by the way, and I clearly lived to tell about it.

The carabiner and all the tangle of ropes involved held me tight to that big, stupid pole that didn’t seem so stupid anymore, and I swung freely and even felt a few moments of joy amidst my relief.

I was safe, because I was connected to the strong thing.

The Bible often compares God to a rock. It’s a beautiful visual, one of solid, dependable strength. Yes, that’s what I would definitely like to clip into, to connect to, to hold firmly to, to grip tightly with all my white-knuckle strength.

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is a rock, in whom I take refuge.” – Psalm 18:2

When I was parenting 4 little boys ages 6 and under, I used to often declare, “I don’t know how anyone can do this life without Jesus.”

I’ve since said it a lot more times, too, and I still mean it.

I’ve walked all of my life holding tight to God, and it’s been the greatest source of assurance and strength in my life. If you took the time to examine my lifetime resume of choices, it’s still and forever at the top of the list.

Did you know right now my dad has lived twice as many years as I have? For a few more weeks, I’ll be 42, and he’ll be 84.

Did you know that after 18 years of grabbing onto whatever else life had to offer and a lot of destructive things, my dad decided to hold on tight to Jesus? Delving right into a giant pool of imagery, let me tell you that he decided to step into a harness and live a life clipped to a rock, to God, and that decision had a DIRECT effect on my life and all of the children coming after me.

That decision he made led to him working at a Christian camp, where he then met my mom, which obviously led to me being born, which led to me meeting MY husband at a camp (wow, copycat alert), which then led to me teaching a group of 40+ awesome youth kids tomorrow at my church where I’m going to tell them the same thing we both found out about this life: 

That holding on tight to Jesus through every up and down of life has been the best decision we’ve ever made. 

And that, perhaps, is the best gift my Dad ever gave me, and this is the best Father’s Day tribute I can make.