Having the Faith to Fall

A few summers ago, I took a trip with my family to go hiking in the desert. I enjoy the outdoors, and hiking is both relaxing and taxing enough to get my blood flowing. It was a wonderful trip! The weather was perfect—not too hot or too cold, and clouds gave us some covering from the burning sun during the day.

At one point, however, we came to a steep cliff. If we wanted to continue forward, my step-dad said that we would have to rappel down. I peered over the cliff’s edge, trying to see what lay below while simultaneously keeping my body a safe distance away from the precipice where the rocks jutted downward. I have an immense fear of heights, and choosing to leap off the side of that cliff did not appeal to me in the slightest. But not wanting to hold the others back or to seem cowardly, I agreed to the rappel down.

We all put on our harnesses, and my step-dad prepared the ropes. I watched how carefully and precisely he made the knots that would let us down in safety. But still, great lumps grew in my throat as I prepared to take my turn down. I went last. Everyone but my step-dad was waiting for me at the bottom. He knew that I was afraid, and told me to take my time. I eased my way back toward the cliff’s edge… and stopped. I could not go any further. For those who have never rappelled, the first step backward, over the edge, is always the worst one. Not only does it feel like you are stepping to your death, but the rope slackens for just a brief couple of seconds. And in those seconds—which, of course, feel more like minutes or hours—you feel like you are facing death, alone.

I had a hard time making this first step. I would think, “Okay, this is easy. I just have to make it over this terrifying, unstable first step.” But every time I felt the rope slacken and my shoe brush the air below, I panicked and leapt forward away from the edge. Those below would sigh with slight impatience because I had given up right at the last moment.

Looking back, I realize how like life this is. Often, we face turning points in our life that are scary, where our footing becomes unsure. Our hearts race, and we just cannot commit to that plunge into the unknown. These are often big decisions that will affect the course of the rest of our lives, and it terrifies us not to be able to see how the path continues on.

Marriage was like this for my husband and me. We knew we loved each other very much, but marriage was a huge decision. Deciding to get married was deciding to walk backward off the cliff of stable, single life into a future of so many things that we did not know. We were scared. We kept taking steps toward the edge, then leaping forward just before we let ourselves slide over that edge. The problem is that we didn’t totally trust the rope of our love to catch us and keep us safe through the drop, through the change. And, to be honest, I don’t know if we had faith that the trail at the bottom would be a good one, that it would be worth the rappel.

Boyd K. Packer used a different analogy to describe this type of impasse in life, where you lack the faith to walk forward. He compared life to a path that, when it is lighted, we feel confident in walking. However, when the way ahead is darkened by something, we are afraid because we cannot see what lies ahead. At these times, we have to rely on faith. He said,

“Somewhere in your quest… there is that ‘leap of faith.’ It is the moment when you have gone to the edge of the light and step into the darkness to discover that the way is lighted ahead for just a footstep or two.”

Life is full of these little “leaps of faith”. We know that something great might be just beyond, but an obstacle—a cliff or overwhelming darkness—blocks the way. Don’t let these challenges throw you off your course. Be brave. Take courage. Let your faith overpower your fear. And then step off the cliff. The rope will catch you.

I eventually did step off the edge, and let myself fall to the next stable step down the side of the cliff. And the rest of the trip was amazing, full of beautiful vistas, Indian ruins, and lots of family fun. We also took the leap of faith into marriage… exactly one year ago today. And the subsequent journey has turned out to be more spectacular than any I could have imagined. Just as the darkness that encompasses you at the center of a tunnel swiftly fades away as you step toward either end, the light came quickly, and I am grateful that both of us had the courage to continue forward.

When you are trying to find courage to walk forward in life, remember that the choices which require faith to first walk into darkness always have the most brilliant outcomes.