The last time we were in Houston, I pointed out the now-bare acres of prime real estate that used to be Astroworld and told the kids about the awesome amusement park that it had been during my growing-up years. I spent every summer there as often as possible and many a Fright Night and Holiday in the Park, too.
Astroworld had all of the rides, games and food that you would expect, but it also had the Mother of All Roller Coasters: the Texas Cyclone. The Cyclone stood 93’ tall with an 80’ drop and a maximum angle of 53 degrees. Oh, and did I mention that it was made of wood? I would contend that there are few sounds more terrifying than the creaking of wood beams and metal supports as you go click, click, clicking up into the clouds. You could see the skyline of downtown Houston right before you went plummeting to your death the delightful squeals (and occasionally hurls) of your fellow passengers.
The ascent was petrifying because you knew that the descent was inevitable. Once you were locked into your seat and the trio of ride attendants gave the “all clear,” there was no turning back. Why, then, if it was so scary, did we ride over and over and over again? Why did we wait in line for hours just to have our stomachs lurched into our throats for a couple of minutes?
The thrill! The anticipation! The adrenaline! Conquering the Texas Cyclone meant conquering your fears. Ascending that rickety-sounding roller coaster meant relying on the wisdom and skill of the engineers and mechanics who designed, assembled and maintained it. In essence, it meant putting faith in forces outside of yourself to trust that you would not fall to your death, but come to a safe stop after the final descent.
Isn’t life that way, sometimes? We’re afraid of trusting God because we don’t want to be let down. We hear other people share tales of the click, click, clicking terrible things in life and are afraid that the ascent will be too much for us to bear. I encourage you to place your fears in the hands of the Great Engineer today; he won’t let you plummet.