On one occasion, somewhere along some Alabama river, I got bored with watching the bobber and decided that I was going to go dragonfly hunting. My dad made a really cool rubber-band gun that was perfect for such a job. I happily chased them down, never hitting a single dragonfly. Suddenly I found myself out of rubber-bands.
As I tromped around the brush, hands on hips, pouty lips fully extended, I noticed one of my rubber bands, hanging from a leaf on one of the branches overhanging the river bank. The bank was a steep drop-off about four feet above the heavy, lumbering current.
I determined to get it. I grabbed a small twig with one hand and stretched out over the water with the other hand stretching towards that rubber-band. Without warning the twig broke and I found myself hurling towards the water. I was so scared I could not scream. Just as it seemed I was about to hit the water, I was suddenly yanked back onto my feet, on safe terra firma. My dad, clutching me close to his chest, firmly insisted I never do that again.
17 Unless the LORD had given me help,
I would soon have dwelt in the silence of death.
18 When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
your love, O LORD, supported me.
19 When anxiety was great within me,
your consolation brought joy to my soul.
Since that time, I’ve stretched over many steep proverbial riverbanks. God has never let me fall. Sometimes the journey towards the current seemed really, really long, and I’ve been really, really scared, but He has never let me fall.