Trust Fall

I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall backwards. My back and legs were as straight as I could keep them. The water slapped my back in retaliation to my assault, and then enveloped me in a forgiving embrace. I came out of the water and gulped a mouthful of air, then laughed in spite of my pain. I swam to the side of the pool and exclaimed in between chuckles, “You said it didn’t hurt!” My sister laughed at my misfortune. I climbed out of the pool, as my back stinging from my flop. I felt at least a little more confident with the practice. When college orientation started, I should be able to do the Trust Fall. 

I had first heard about the Trust Fall years before when my sister went to her college orientation at College of the Ozarks. The college orientation was called Character Camp, and its whole purpose was to build character. The Trust Fall was just one of many character-building challenges freshmen were required to attempt. It was designed to build relationships and trust between the students. When I was accepted to College of the Ozarks in February of 2011, I knew I too would have to do the Trust Fall, but I had taken comfort in the fact that I had all spring and summer to get used to the idea. Now that spring was over and summer was drawing to a close, I started to feel more apprehensive. It was not necessarily the height that frightened me. I loved the speed of rollercoasters and could jump off of a diving board with little to no hesitation, but something inside me was repelled by the idea of falling backwards, perhaps a fear of the unknown. Soon I was going to have to overcome this fear, if I could.

August arrived and with it Character Camp and the Trust Fall. A bunch of apprehensive freshman and I gathered around the platform. It was made of rustic wood. It looked like some ancient altar. The sun angrily cast its rays on us, showing no mercy. A very tall man leaned against the platform. He told us how the Trust Fall should be done. He said there was nothing to it. If I kept my back straight, and did not let my knees buckle I would be fine. I groaned inwardly. I did not want to do this. 

“Who wants to go first?”

For several moments only silence answered him. Finally a brave soul, Jake, spoke up, “I will.” 

The first victim climbed the pedestal. We gathered around, interlocking our hands in a zipper formation.

Jake asked us, “Team ready?”

We shouted out our reply, “Team ready!”

He crossed his arms across his chest, “Jake falling.”

We all replied, “Fall Jake!”

Jake fell backwards into our arms. The tall man asked us, “Who wants to go next?”

Whispers of fear and apprehension floated back and forth in our group. Finally, another person volunteered. Person after person fell into our outstretched arms.  Then it was my turn. With reluctant steps, I climbed up to the platform. My heart fluttered.  I did not know if I could do it, but I felt I had to. I had to overcome my fears. I backed up until my heels touched the edge. The tall man said I could do it. I tried to believe him. I closed my eyes and crossed my arms. I took a shaky breath, and tried to be calm. “Grace falling,” I said as I began my fall. As I felt my body sinking through the air, I heard voices shouting. I knew that something was wrong. Fear gripped me and pulled my feet further away from the platform.  I felt frantic arms try to take hold of me, but I fell – to the ground.  Tears attempted to escape my eyes. I held them back with determination.

Worried voices echoed the phrase, “Are you okay?” 

My instincts told me to be brave, “I am fine.”

I dusted the dirt from my sore backside.  My legs felt shaky. The tall man told me, “Do it again.”

I was shocked, “Again? Do I have to?”

He urged me further, “Yes, you can do it.”

I climbed the platform, my eyes slightly damp. My leg shook. I was afraid, this time perhaps of the known. I knew what the Trust Fall was like, it was not fun, and it did not build trust. I crossed my arms. My lips quivered.

I spoke with hesitation, “Team ready?”

 “Team ready!”

“Grace falling.”

They shouted with exuberance, “Fall Grace!”

I fell. The air rushed past me as my body sunk into its depths. This time, I felt the impact of numerous arms breaking my fall. Carefully they set me down. “Yay, I did it,” I said positively though my voice lacked genuine enthusiasm.  I walked away from the group and guzzled water from my water bottle. I unwrapped a piece of gum with shaking hands, popped it into my mouth, and chewed vigorously. 

Someone looked over at me and asked, “Are you okay?”

I responded bravely, “Yeah, I am fine.”

I gave a weak smile. A man stood nearby filming as the next person fell from the platform. My moment hitting the dust would be forever immortalized on film. I wondered, what on earth had gone wrong?

I never learned exactly what went wrong that day, but I learned a greater lesson about trust when something went wrong then I would have if everything had gone right. Because the truth is, in relationships things do not always go right. There are people who will do their best, but sometimes screw up. There are people who will not care enough to be there when I fall. However, there is only one person who will catch me every single time, Jesus Christ. He is the only one I should put my whole-hearted trust in. My relationship with Christ is rather one-sided. While He will never fail me, while He can always be trusted, I am not nearly as trustworthy.  Ever since the greatest Fall of man, we have been failing Him over and over again. Yet instead of letting us suffer, He stretched out His arms on that cross and caught us. He saved us from that pain. He forgave us. Ephesians 4:31 says, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” I am going to trust people, recognizing they will sometimes fail me. When they do fail me, I am going to forgive them. Because I trust the One who never will.