Fierce Beauty Read Online Free Page A

only hold on to Me like this. I am not
a mere metal shaft; I am your King. I am your true Anchor. If you would choose to hold on to Me, you would know I am the One who always has—and always will—keep you from falling
.
    I was ashamed. He was right. God designed me to cling only to
Him
with such lifesaving passion and determination. I needed to confess that it wasn’t a metal stick that held me up. It was my Lord. Because I could move nothing else, I bowed my heart before Him and prayed. The prayer that streamed out of my heart was a simple confession of pride and a plea for help.
    Jesus, help me … Please help me … Once again I’m reaching out to You. Although I’ve failed You miserably, You’ve never failed me. I’m sorry that I’ve chosen to serve the only other god there is—my desire, my will, my way. I’ve chosen to worship me instead of You. I’m so sorry for my awful pride and for how I’ve allowed it to block a close relationship with You. Will You forgive me, Lord? Will You wash my heart clean of my selfishness? Will You lead me again? I acknowledge that no matter how far If all from Your presence, it’s never beyond the depth of Your love for me. You’ve proven that You always have been and always will be with me. Again, Jesus, with this life, I choose to serve You
.
    In the moments that followed, something happened, something remarkable, something that changed my life. When I raised my eyes, I was still in
exactly
the same predicament as before. God didn’t take my hardship away. God didn’t fly me off to a safe place. He did something even better. He helped me realize that I was
in
a safe place—because He was with me.
    He didn’t take me out of my adversity; He took the adversity out of me. He revealed how He would go through the battle with me. I might fall; I might not. Either way, He was still my King, and I would trust Him with the outcome.
    I knew what I had to do.
    With my right hand I reached down and helped move my left foot down a few inches. From this new position I carefully sawed my cramponsacross the surface of the ice beneath my left foot. After several minutes of this, I had worn a groove that would hold half of the spikes on my boot. In one of the greatest acts of will I’ve ever known, I began to cautiously remove my ice ax.
    Acutely aware of the vast expanse around me, I drew a deep breath and held it. Slowly I pulled my ax free from the only physical anchor I had. Exhaling steadily, I breathed another prayer of thanks to my Lord. The two-inch rim under my left boot held nearly all my weight.
    Balancing almost completely on one foot, I moved nothing more than my eyes and left arm. By repositioning my ice ax slightly higher up the translucent incline, I would be in a stance to take another step. My unstable posture did not afford any leverage to drive my ax into a secure position. With my ax firmly clutched in my right hand and its strap around my wrist, I began tapping the spike into the ice with my closed left fist, using it against the ax like a hammer. This tedious process took nearly twenty minutes.
    Finally, when my ax was securely driven deep into the ice, I slowly shifted my weight off my left foot to the new, higher position of my right. As all my weight shifted slightly upward, I repeated the entire process of sawing deep grooves into the ice with my crampons and repositioning my ax higher and higher. By doing so, I climbed the remaining distance to the summit. Though it was only about twenty vertical feet, it took nearly two hours to complete.
    Emotionally exhausted, I crawled on trembling hands and knees to a safe nook on the summit spire. After shucking my pack, I leaned back against the frozen gray rocks and closed my eyes. It was only by God’s redeeming grace that I’d survived the consequences of my foolish pride. I slumped, curled into a ball, and wept.
    Once my fear and sorrow were sluiced by my tears, I slowly rose to my feet. While drying my face