I lived in Abbotsford when I was 17. I loved that brown house. Well, it was actually the scenery I enjoyed. Our back yard was a mountain, and a creek led us to it. A blue heron jumped out of the creek even as I rounded a bend once. It was always such a peaceful place to go.
Another mountain wasn’t too far away either. Just down the street really. About a twenty-minute hike later, one could be surrounded by a set of small caves and a waterfall. It was a beautiful sight.
The waterfall wasn’t very wide, but it was pretty tall. There was a very thick tree limb hanging over it. And an outcropping hid behind the waterfall, near the bottom.
Someone had tied a sturdy rope to that limb, and if one climbed onto the outcropping, he could swing out on the rope, through the waterfall, and back again. It was lots of fun.
My cousin and I decided after playing on the rope for awhile one day that we would follow the creek down from the waterfall to see where it led. The waterfall had been there for years and the creek had worn its way through rock and carried boulders from further up the mountain. Curiosity had gotten the best of us, and off we went. Adventure awaited us.
As we followed the creek, we found ourselves climbing over huge boulders, some twice as tall as we were. In places, we had to crawl beneath the space created by two or more boulders resting on each other. Wherever we went we tried to avoid the swift-moving creek. There was even a spot where we had to shimmy across a branch upside down, just like in the movies, in order to cross the creek.
We noticed the creek starting to get shallower and shallower, and the banks rose higher and higher. Before we knew it, we were walking along a moss-covered bed of rock with running water under our feet. It was like trying to walk on ice.
We came around one corner and the creek dropped away. We were at another waterfall. This one was not as high as the first. The moss-covered face was too steep and too wet to turn back.
I was in the lead, so I went as far as I could to the edge to gauge our surroundings, to try and figure out how we would get down. After looking for a while, I thought the best action was to jump as far away from the waterfall as possible. This would get us away from the strong downpour of its water and the deep, churning pool at the bottom.
So, I gripped my hands on each side of the crevice, braced my feet against whatever footing I could find, and pushed off with all my might. I landed, buckled my knees, and only the heels of my runners touched the water. I had made it.
My cousin was next. I could see him gauging the scene as well. He seemed to hesitate a little while longer than I. Then he too jumped. Only he didn’t jump away. He went straight down. The waterfall caught him, and forced him still for what seemed like forever.
This experience reminds me of life. It’s like a big exploration trip. Lots to do and places to go. But there’s always that creek, ready to take us away, convincing us that excitement is always better than safety. But if we follow the tempting stream too long, eventually we get stuck. Eventually, we need to decide how we’re going to get out. And there’s only one way. It’s through faith in Jesus Christ. If we have faith in Him, He will give us the strength to push away from the shackles into which Satan had lured us. He will give us the freedom. Freedom only found in Him.
