May 30, 2012

Almost Jump Time!

Three days until the big jump!  Of course, the news would keep showing video of the 80-year-old grandma's near fatal skydive when her harness malfunctions...*

Still, we're ready (my jump partner is an EMT I met heading to Haiti after the  earthquake).  I'm more worried about the heat. It's supposed to get up to 110 at the drop zone - could be trouble for someone used to 70 degree coastal temps.

Skydiving Magazine says freefall doesn't feel like the roller coaster drop most people expect so that makes me less nervous.  They say freefall is more like "a comfortable sensation of floating; the closest thing to human flight." 

So why skydiving?  I'm still trying to answer that question but maybe it just comes down to this:  adventure.  

Whether reporting in a disaster zone or caring for orphans in a Third World slum, adventure forces me to draw on my faith in ways ordinary life doesn't.  Away from our comfort zones, we're far more dependent on God and can sense a grace higher than any adrenaline rush.

Who knows, maybe facing fear opens the door for greater grace?  And grace always precedes great exploits.  

A demon-possessed man who lived in tombs?  Grace restored.  

A soldier whose ear got cut off ambushing Jesus?  Grace healed.  

A woman caught in adultery?  Grace forgave. 

And a grandmother who almost died skydiving?  Grace saved.

Grace and skydiving? Who knows.  In any case, I like what the thrill-seeking grandma said to a reporter who suggested safer hobbies: "Knitting is boring." 

***
Grandmother's near fatal skydive:

May 18, 2012

Slaying Giants

The long-awaited adventure is almost here!  Flights are booked.  Reservation is set.  Soon I'll be strapped to a stranger and hurling toward earth at 130 mph. 

The question people ask most is, "Why skydiving?"  What they mean is, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" 

"I seem to be missing the gene that says, 'This is dangerous, don't do it,'" I recently told friends in Haiti. 
Motorcycle taxi to the market in Haiti
They were trying to talk me out of riding a motorcycle taxi to the market.  The market wasn't far but motorcylists are often killed due to the lack of traffic laws and the fact that most don't own helmets or protective gear. 

Still, I was determined to experience this common Haitian method of commute; sometimes entire families, toting babies and bags, ride one motorcycle! 

So, armed with tips from our host on how to barter for mangos and pineapples, I eagerly climbed on the bike when the driver arrived.

In Haiti, drivers use whichever side of the road is open. I held my breath as we'd swerve back into our lane seconds from a head-on collision. I feared scraping the skin off my arms as we dodged through inches-wide openings between trucks. 

I soon quit trying to ride like the fearless Haitians and clasped both arms around my driver's waist as tightly as I could.

Two hours later we arrived back home without a scratch.  Mangos never tasted sweeter.

So why skydiving?  Like the motorcycle ride, I can't explain it.  I just know it's about slaying a giant:  Fear.  Like the biblical queen Esther, it has to do with destiny.  embracing faith.  I'm tired of being beaten by giants.  

Besides, look at Esther - she took a risk and it led to a throne.


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May 2, 2012

Free Beach

The Haiti you never see. 2012
I was stunned to learn on our recent trip that most Haitians have never been to the beach.  They live in a place once called The Jewel of the Caribbean yet they've never dug their toes in the warm sand or swam in the clear blue water.

"It's too expensive," our interpreter explained.  Most beaches are private and charge $20-30 a person to enter; the average Haitian earns $2 a day.

Our Haitian friends couldn't believe it when I showed them pictures of the California beach I walk to almost every day.  

"You just go down there?" they asked, unable to fathom such adventure cost nothing. "Anytime?"

Countless hours of the last 1,825 days have been spent at the ocean - playing,  dreaming, praying.  I've just hit the five-year mark in LA.

Hollywood's definitely been an adjustment for a girl who grew up with Big 10 tailgates, church potlucks and chivalrous men.  Here, they grow up with pools and pills; celebrities are worshipped more than Christ; and men?  Well, let's just say my friends and I can often tell the non-natives by their manners. 

I've thought about moving but so far have felt compelled to stay.  Maybe it's time for a change. 

I go to the beach to think.  The ocean seems to ebb and flow with an invitation to linger.  Thankfully it's free.


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