"I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears." ~Psalm 34:4
The above verse was my mantra for the majority of last week. I spent the week going through raft guide school, a period of time that I thought would be a stepping stone for a new summer job. There's truth to the fact that it was a stepping stone, but not in the sense that I expected, as you'll all soon come to realize.
The week started out well enough. I met the other raft guide candidates and we all received our cold weather gear that included a wetsuit, booties, and a splash top. March isn't exactly the ideal time of year to go rafting, especially when the water is 47 degrees Fahrenheit, but I figured after a week of volunteering in 16 degree weather in Tennessee, I'd be alright. The first day we were taught paddle strokes and then the instructors took us down the channel of Class II and III rapids. It was a little unnerving at first, but I survived and slowly became more comfortable. By day two, I was doing a decent job of guiding and catching mandatory eddies, minus the fact that I decided to briefly abandon ship when I got bounced out of the raft during a Class III rapid. What I wasn't ready for, though, was our last task of the day: swimming underneath the raft. I totally understand why it is required because we need to be put in every possible situation that someone might experience while whitewater rafting. But for someone who has a fear of getting trapped beneath an object underwater, to the point where I have a hammer in my glove compartment on the off chance my car goes off a bridge into a body of water, this was a terrifying endeavor. I attempted to do the length of the raft, but after about two seconds of being underwater, I freaked out and shot out the side. I did my best to regain my composure and the instructors and I decided on me doing the width of the raft, which I completed, but my mental state was in shambles. I held it together until I reached my car, which is where I crumbled into uncontrollable sobs for my 45 minute drive home. I knew I was okay, but I was allowing Satan to infiltrate my brain and play tricks on me. I knew the next day involved swimming the Class III rapids, and I was petrified and convinced that I wouldn't be able to do it.
When I got home, I attempted to calm down enough to call home. I was calm for a matter of five seconds before the panic attack returned. Thankfully my mom was able to get me to talk about what I had accomplished that day, which helped alleviate my panic, until I had to discuss what had caused it. I was able to calm down again, but I was at a real low point, actually asking if I was a horrible Christian for getting so anxious and fearful for my life and the thought of death, even though I was aware that the likelihood of me dying at guide school was minimal. I was reassured and told that I wasn't a bad Christian, but that I really needed to pray, and pray a lot. It had become very apparent that I wasn't going to be able to complete guide school in my own strength.
That night I had a very fitful night of sleep. I was dreading guide school because of the swim portion, and to make it even more fun, it was about 50 degrees and cloudy. Did I mention that the water was 47 degrees? I arrived and was thankful that we just spent time talking inside for two hours, but then it was time to venture outside. I was shaking partly because of the cold and partly because of the idea of having to swim through the rapids. I was doing my best to pray for God's strength and for him to wrap me up in a little bubble and take away my fears and anxiety. The first portion of the swim wasn't too bad, but then I got caught in an eddy, which really exhausted me when I tried to swim out of it. Combining the fact that I was tired with the fact that I still had to swim the largest Class III on the channel made me start doubting myself, which I voiced to one of the instructors. He remained patient with me and promised to float a few feet behind me to make me more comfortable, so I waded into the frigid water, said a little prayer, and began floating toward the waves downstream. As I descended, I held my breath and prepared for my body to get held underwater momentarily. Thankfully I popped up within five seconds and was able to swim to shore feeling like I accomplished something. I was thankful that God got me through that, but the anxiety soon returned knowing full well that swimming a Class IV rapid was on the docket.
As I sat and ate my lunch, another guide began discussing the Class IV rapid that was awaiting us. He mentioned how you really didn't want to go left or else you'd experience what is known as the "spin cycle," which pretty much meant you'd get tumbled underwater a couple times before resurfacing. This put my mind in overdrive and I attempted to pray, but the fear and anxiety lingered in the recesses of my brain. I began to shiver again partially from cold and partially from the thought of the swim. I tried to warm up in a hot shower, but by the time we were to go outside, I had reached my breaking point and told one of my instructors that the water was making me anxious, which of course lead to some tears on my part. Another one of my least favorite things: crying in front of people. He was kind and asked me what about it made me anxious and I explained the unpredictability of the currents. Instead of forcing me to go back on the water, he suggested I go talk to the raft guide scheduler in order to decompress. She was very kind and allowed me to express my concerns and she voiced how she was also scared to swim under the raft. She also said that the instructors weren't there to make me miserable and that if there was anything that made me feel uncomfortable, I didn't have to do it. That seemed to alleviate some of the stress I was feeling. She also encouraged me to not give up so fast and to at least finish out the week, even if that meant just riding along as a passenger in the raft and not actually guiding considering I fell out pretty much once a day as a guide for some reason. I was able to motivate myself into going back out and rafting the rest of the day, thankful that we weren't swimming the Class IV that day like I suspected. I made it through the rest of Wednesday and was less anxious than the day before, but still not at all myself. I had a discussion with Chrissy when I got home, and we both determined that this wasn't the job for me with all of the tension that was clearly wafting off of me. I desired nothing more than to just be done with guide school, but still knew that I couldn't just throw in the towel. I needed to see this through no matter how anxious I was.
Thursday morning rolled around and I started my day by writing Psalm 34:4 on the back of my left hand. To go with it, I also wrote on there 1 John 4:18 in order to remind me of these words: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." That last sentence stings a bit to consider, but in essence, it's true of my life. I don't fully understand the love of God and I think I fall short in truly embracing it at times and trusting God to protect me every step of the way. It's certainly a shortcoming and an area in my faith that I need to improve through studying my Bible, but I digress.
On my way to school, I opted to listen to Tenth Avenue North, particularly the song, "Closer." Within this song is the line, "Come on, let me know You're near, and push away my fear," which ended up serving as my mantra for the day. Again, we began our day discussing things in the classroom before gearing up and scouting the Class III and IV channel on our way to the swim location. I prayed on and off on our scouting trip, partly thinking that the channel wasn't so bad, until I saw where we needed to swim. Then my anxiety revved right up again. My uneasiness was well known to the other participants and other instructors, along with the rafting manager, who tried to give me some encouragement letting me know that my guiding skills were good and that the I was capable of doing the swim. I nodded and decided that I would attempt it despite my mind trying to convince me otherwise. Honestly, the night before I'd practiced holding my breath as long as possible as a way of preparing for a worst case scenario. Soon we all lined up to take our turns at the swim, waiting for the "go" signal from the manager on shore. When it was my turn, I again said a prayer and jumped into the current. I attempted to steer myself towards the right of the pillow of the rapid and held my breath and closed my eyes as I went under. About seven seconds later, I resurfaced and heard my instructor yelling for me to swim to him in the eddy to the river left. I managed to get over there and swirled up to the side and climbed the ladder onto the shore. I was very thankful to be okay and happy about what God helped me accomplish, but that nugget of anxiety implanted itself yet again since I knew full well that I then had to raft the same channel multiple times with others guiding and soon myself guiding. I continued to think about how perfect love casts out fear and that got me to lunch time. With the temperature dropping and it downpouring and windy, we stayed inside for quite awhile. I secretly hoped the storm wouldn't calm down, but alas, it did, and it was on to attempting to surf the Class III rapids. I found myself volunteering to go first, mostly just to get it out of the way. I did a decent job until the current ripped the side of the boat into the rapid and I feared we were going to flip as I got tossed to the left. I tried to lean right, but my paddle came out of the water, causing the right side of the boat to then tip towards the trough of the rapid, and into the water I fell, upstream of the raft. Thankfully I didn't have enough time to fully comprehend what happened and what was about to happen and was able to instinctively hold my breath because I soon found myself pushed underneath my raft. With the training I had earlier in the week, though, I knew what I needed to do in order to get back to the surface and swam frantically to shore, where I climbed onto a rock totally winded, hands on knees trying to catch my breath again. I distinctly remember thinking to myself that this wasn't fun and so not for me, but knowing that it was not because of the instruction, but was all totally mental on my part. Since it was so cold, I opted to only do one more run and then call it a day in order to avoid hypothermia. I was thankful that God got me through yet another day, but was still wishing I was completely done.
Friday rolled around, a day where it was 29 degrees out and windy. We remained inside until 11am, but I already knew in my head that it wasn't worth risking hypothermia for a job I knew I wouldn't take in the end. I prayed about it and knew that I had accomplished all that was necessary for the week. Regardless, I suited up in my wetsuit and multiple fleece layers, but still found myself shivering. God was watching over me, though, because upon mentioning that I was cold to an instructor, he went and chatted with the other instructor and they both decided to have me observe runs from shore to keep me dry until at least lunch time. I was perfectly content with that idea and could feel my anxiety leaving me, knowing that I could wait to face the Class IV rapids a little longer. After lunch, though, I was still a little chilly and requested to continue my observations, which I was allowed to do. I was thankful and actually really enjoyed watching from shore. I maintained my awareness of what the other guides were doing and I had the opportunity to talk to the instructors one on one for a long period of time, which wouldn't have happened otherwise. God answered my prayers and had gotten me through the week and blessed me with a day on shore in order to stay relatively warm and dry.
After the day was complete, each raft guide candidate had a debriefing interview with the instructors and manager. I explained to them that I didn't think that being a raft guide was a good fit for me because the water made me anxious. To my surprise, I found that I was being thanked and complimented for my perseverance and my ability to guide. They told me that if there was anything they could help with in the future that they would in order to get me to feel more comfortable because they believed in my abilities. They also were thankful that I didn't just bail midweek even though I knew that raft guiding wasn't for me because that would have caused them to question their teaching abilities, so I made sure to emphasize that they were very good instructors and that I was just too in my head about certain things. They then complimented me on the fact that never once did I complain even when I was visibly shivering due to the cold.
As much as I'd like to take credit, I know that God is the one who saw me through my week at guide school. Without Him protecting me, I wouldn't have been able to manage swimming Class III and Class IV rapids in such cold water. I believe this entire week was a test of my faith to see whether or not I would trust God enough. I know I faltered at times, but I think the blessing of a day onshore on Friday was proof that I ultimately passed.
This week definitely taught me a lot about myself and the power of prayer. True, I still need to trust God more, but we're all a work in progress. It also helped put some of my other random anxieties in perspective and proved to me that they are nothing compared to facing raging whitewater. As my one friend said in a text on Friday, "Who knew that such a small event could have such a lasting impact on the rest of your life." In light of deciding I'm not cut out to be a rafting guide, I was reminded of a piece of advice I was I was given last year: "Sometimes you have to find out what isn't before you can find out what is." My hope for all of you is that you won't run away from your fears or difficult situations automatically. I hope that you'll pray to God to get you through them and that He can be glorified when you accomplish something that you know would be impossible in your own strength. As Paul wrote of God in 2 Corinthians 12:9, "...'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
