Hands Up

I can so easily remember my very first roller coaster experience.

I was 8 years old at Six Flags in Atlanta. It was hot- duh! My family was there with another family that has kids close in age to me and my siblings. We had been having a great time, and then it was mentioned.

Scream Machine.

Now, Scream Machine is one of the most mild roller coasters you can venture on, but this was my first real roller coaster. We had walked past it a few times throughout the day, and then the crowd said they were ready to ride it. During the course of the day I was deliberating in my head if I was going to go for it. Emily, the slightly older but way cooler friend who was there, said she was definitely going. Obviously, I needed to go too.

We stood in line for a long, long, long time. But had you asked me at the time, it wasn't long enough. The ENTIRE time, my stomach was churning and my heart was pounding. I would watch that coaster over and over again [it didn't change routes a single time]. I tried my best not to appear nervous, but boy, was I!

Then the time came to load our train. I was sitting next to Anthony. Emily and her dad were in front of us. Now, like all good roller coasters, you start off painfully slow and up a long, steep, practically touching the clouds, mountain of a hill [I was 8...give me a break]. On my way up, I realized something quite unfortunate.

I didn't want to go on the Scream Machine.

And I told Anthony that. And he laughed and said, "Too late!"

Fear. Terror. And in general just feeling like I just made the worst decision.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

And then we reached the top, and I knew this was it. I was about to come down from the clouds and race to my death next to my brother.

I screamed! LOUD! We did in fact race to the bottom of that hill, and we shot right back up for another one. More screaming. And we plummeted again.

After the second one, all of the rest of the hills were nothing compared to the first doozies. And the next thing you knew, I was laughing so hard. This "terror" called the Scream Machine just became the most fun part of my day. The ride ended all too quickly, and before I knew it, I was telling my parents all about it. How awesome it was. Ya, my brother quickly told them that I wanted to get off about 5 seconds into it. But then I told them how much I loved it. And since then, I've loved roller coasters. I love the thrill of them. I love laughing non-stop while on them. I love the ones that force tears out of my eyes because we're going so fast. I just love roller coasters.

And I pray this is a perfect analogy of what I'm about to experience.

I have the same feeling in the pit of my stomach and the same pounding of my heart. But now I'm waiting/scrambling to leave for this cross country move. The goodbyes have started, but the worst ones have yet to come. Time is going so fast, yet I've been saying for a year that I was going to move to Seattle. And now I'm just days away from loading my car.

Once again, my brother will be next to me. I predict a painfully slow beginning to our 40 hour drive across the US. And I imagine there will be a part of me that will look at him somewhere along the way and want to say, "I changed my mind. I don't want to do this!" His response would be quite similar to what it was that day as I sat on the Scream Machine.

I fear that first sudden drop. The one where I plunge to my death. But I knowingly smile. Because the ride keeps going. This next adventure will be a thrill. There will be drops. Some unexpected to me. But God isn't surprised by any turns, twists, or drops this girl takes. And I hope this marks something in my life. Taking the risk of riding the roller coaster turned out to be a really great one. I believe that taking this risk will also prove to be a really great one. That I'll be eagerly telling my parents about the ride I've taken and the ways I realized my fears were silly.

So, I put my hands up like I'm on a roller coaster. But mostly because I'm in a place of surrender before the Lord. He is the one going before me and working each part of this journey out. I could not have orchestrated the events that have occurred in the past week. And that's comforting.

I will enjoy the ride.