I’ve always wanted to fly. To rise above it all and breathe. To see for miles and miles and feel like I could close my eyes without being afraid.
Fear and anxiety have controlled most of my life. My childhood was stained by a terrible incident that flipped my world upside-down. Any healthy relationships with men afterwards were overpowered by fear. I became strongly independent and pushed people away to a safe distance, including physical contact. Anything that triggered the past caused me to resist and try to escape, and if I couldn’t escape, I involuntarily closed my eyes and shut down. Deep down, I still wanted to rise above it all, but no matter how high I climbed, my feet remained rooted to the earth. When I discovered skydiving, I knew that flying could be a dream come true.
But there was one problem. Most places required a tandem jump for the first skydiving attempt, and this was more terrifying to me than actually jumping from an airplane. Fear told me that I would never skydive because of the trauma of the past. It was too strong; I was too weak. And I believed it.
Years went by. I met and married my husband who was one of the men God used in my life to prove that not all men are the same. We had three children, and my dream of skydiving seemed more attainable as God redeemed much of the past for good. Life was still hard because I couldn’t escape my brokenness, but God was with me and proved Himself sufficient to heal even the deepest wounds. As God lifted my burdens with His love, I felt lighter and freer than I ever had in my life.
For my daughter’s 16th birthday, she wanted to go skydiving and asked me to go too. I was so excited to finally do what I’d dreamed of doing for years. We found a reputable business in southwestern Colorado and scheduled the jump. But old fears returned. Fear of strangers, of men. Fear of being restrained, helpless, misjudging a situation. Fear of being traumatized. Feeling all these fears again caused me to realize that skydiving was exactly what I needed to prove to myself that God’s love was sufficient, even here. Fear didn’t define me anymore.
The big day arrived, July 29, 2024. We arrived a little early for our jump, and the skydiving instructor was in the air with another customer. I watched as they gently floated down through the air and landed safely on the ground. The skydiving instructor was completely in control, and it showed.
Over the next twenty minutes or so, the skydiving instructor prepared us for tandem jumping. Even though he’d been jumping for nearly 20 years, he was mindful that this was our first time. He intuitively assumed what we might be afraid of and explained everything, which made me start to trust him. But that was on the ground; we weren’t in the air yet.
My daughter went first, and I watched the speck in the sky which was her and the instructor drift down safely. I was so incredibly proud of her! And then it was my turn.
As I walked to the plane, I tried to ignore the fact that this wasn’t a fully loaded flight where I could pretend to be invisible between takeoff and landing. Rather, I was going alone with two strangers in a single-seater airplane where my “seat” was between the knees of the skydiver instructor so he could fasten me to himself for the ascent. I had to sit with my back to a stranger (something that was difficult anyway). As long as we stayed in this position, I could focus on the scenery rather than the man behind me. The problem was this wasn’t enough. I needed to trust this guy more than just what I read from five-star reviews on his social media pages or the twenty-minute prep in the hangar below. To put it bluntly, I may have been strapped to him in the airplane on our way to the drop zone, but if I didn’t trust him, I would have stayed in the plane. It was that simple.
Minutes ticked by as I tried to focus. The instructor answered my nosy questions without making me feel stupid. He maintained professionalism the entire time without making me feel uncomfortable. By the time we reached the right altitude, I realized that I felt as confident with this stranger as I could be. I would do the jump.
The plane made a wide turn. It was time. But before we jumped, the instructor did something that almost destroyed my confidence. He told me to sit in his lap as close as possible so he could sinch the straps as tight as they’d go. Any distance between us would factor into our safety, and even though I knew this was for my own good, it triggered strong fears that threatened to shut me down completely. He pulled the straps so tight that I was forced to synchronize my breathing with his, which turned into a blessing because he was calm and that forced me to stay calm and kept me from hyperventilating into a full-blown panic attack.
Moments later, the pilot swung the door open, and I caught a glimpse of the whole wide world below. The wind filled the plane, and our voices were lost in the deafening sound of flying at 7,500 feet with the door open. The instructor got us into position, and before I could hesitate, he launched us into space.
Immediately the sensation of falling, falling, falling gripped me like a vice, like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I couldn’t feel anything but the rushing, powerful wind tearing at my face and hair. Even the man strapped to my back was weightless as we plummeted, and I felt completely helpless. I couldn’t scream because the wind was too strong, so I shut down instantly.
But the skydiving guy wouldn’t let me. He tapped my shoulder, pulling me back into reality. He pointed at the camera strapped to his wrist, the signal to smile. We were freefalling to our death, and he wanted me to smile? But he was in complete control of the situation; I saw his arm in front of me. Trust him and smile. He had me, even though I couldn’t see him. I forced myself to smile, and immediately my fears vanished.
And that’s when he pulled the chute cord.
The deafening whoosh of wind transformed into a breeze as we gently floated downward. The instructor howled into the wind like a crazy coyote, and I laughed with him, exhilarated. This was the moment I’d been longing for my entire life. Fearless. Joyful. Completely at peace. Wide open space between earth and sky. The experience became more than skydiving; it represented everything God had done in my life up to that point. I would not be in this moment apart from grace. My heart overflowed with, “Look at what great things God has done!”
Before I went skydiving, it seemed simple enough to pull a cord and release a parachute. Anyone could do that. But when I was freefalling through the air, I realized that if I didn’t have the skydiver guy strapped to my back, I would have fallen to my death. I simply didn’t know what I didn’t know until I was in the moment. My life never flashed before my eyes, as they say. There wasn’t time. It was completely humbling and made me grateful for the wisdom of the “higher-ups” who required tandem jumping for first-time jumpers. As we floated down to earth, my mind flooded with the weight of this moment and the many spiritual connections to the Christian life, particularly where God has led me.
Think about life from a human standpoint. Initially, it seems pretty simple, especially as a teenager looking forward to the rest of your life. You have fun, pursue what makes you happy, do more good things than bad, and in the end, you go to heaven. But then the weight of guilt and shame starts crushing us. Things don’t go as planned. Bad things happen. We jump from one thing to another trying to find happiness in things that can’t truly satisfy. Deep down, we wonder if there’s more to life and realize that life isn’t as simple as we thought, that we don’t know what we need to know, and that no matter how “good” we are, it’s never enough.
At some point it hits us that we are in a freefall without a parachute, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Death is inevitable in the end. Many people try to numb helplessness and fear by trying harder or pretending these things don’t exist or escaping into pleasures that provide temporary happiness even if they don’t last. But these things can’t remove the guilt and shame of sinning against God and other people. The reality is that we need help outside ourselves, and it must start with the wisdom of God who created us, who reveals the bigger truth about sin and guilt in the Bible. Proverbs 1:7, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.” Romans 3:23, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
The Bible tells us about our helplessness and sin – and God’s love for sinners. He has provided a “skydiver instructor with a parachute” named Jesus who is freely available for anyone who asks. John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” Titus 3:4-7, “But when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by grace we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.”
When we trust in Jesus alone to save us, it’s like putting our faith in the instructor who pulls us close and straps us in. It’s good to ask questions in the airplane, but at some point, faith needs to jump and trust the skydiver guy. We are saved by grace alone (undeserved favor) through faith alone (trusting God’s provision, not our own ideas) in Christ alone (the only one who can save). We are forgiven because Jesus died to take the punishment that our sins deserve. We are made righteous because Jesus lived to give us His perfect record. We are claimed by God as His child because Jesus has done everything we need – even things we didn’t know we needed – to bring us into a right relationship with Him. And like my skydiver guy, Jesus will bring us home safely. 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24, “Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.”
My “faith” in the instructor on the ground was easy. As long as I had backup plans for the backup plans, trusting a stranger with my life was really easy. But “faith” was proven when my backup plans went out the window and the skydiver instructor was the only option left. Who was with me made all the difference between fear and faith because he proved himself, just as Jesus does with our impossible salvation. Romans 8:38-39, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
In the past, I’d been hurt by men. Even today, I’m slow to trust any man. It took a lot for me to trust a stranger at such close proximity. It took even more to jump from an airplane with a man I didn’t know. By pushing myself out of my comfort zone into the unknown, there was tremendous relief when an ordinary man proved my fears wrong. So too, Jesus is a real man, but He is more than an ordinary man. He’s also God and He loves me, and that makes all the difference. 1 John 4:18-19, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love. We love because He first loved us.”
As we approached the ground, the gentle floating turned into rapid descent, like the freefalling at first. My stomach twisted as the sandy landing strip drew near. There were only two ways to land on the ground: dead or alive. Without the instructor and parachute, I would have been dead, but with him strapped tightly to my back, I lived.
On the way down, I asked the instructor if he thought much about dying. I didn’t ask because I was afraid of dying. Rather, for most of my life I’ve been afraid of living. John Bunyan wrote an allegory of the Christian life called Pilgrim’s Progress. He describes two lions which represented powerful authorities who persecute Christians, and today these lions could include anything that causes God’s people to be afraid. They’re too big, too strong, too painful to pass by safely, and fear makes us a prisoner. But fear also stands in front of the joy that God has promised when we follow Him by faith. We must pass by the lions in order to follow God.
My life has been one long road of lions, but over the past several years, God has given me courage to walk past many lions of fear – and I’ve discovered that they are chained! And there’s joy on the other side! Skydiving was like two more lions in my path. I was afraid, but I am not a victim of the past. Those “what if’s” of fear were turned into “what if’s” of joy. 1 Thessalonians 5:9-10, “For God has not destined us for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep, we will live together with Him.”
Afterwards, friends asked me what skydiving was like. It’s complicated. It’s like a rollercoaster ride, jumping from a high dive, flying in an airplane – but not really. There’s nothing comparable. That’s what knowing Jesus is like too. There’s nothing in life compared to knowing Christ, the most terrifying, most exhilarating experience in the world.
