Building Faith, One Decision at a Time

11/12/25

Hello Delightful Being – 

This is a repost of an early entry. It was written many years ago, when taking the first tentative steps on this healing journey. Didn’t initially realize it was a plan, encouragement and promise from God. 

He seemed to be telling me, and any person who’s on a similar path, it may not always be an easy climb, and it could take time to build the faith in God and self in order to take increasingly bolder actions to attain the amazing life He has for us. And to learn, we may not always get it right but doubts, mistakes and imperfections will not null and void His plan, and love, for us. 

There I was, walking along, not really paying attention to the path. Suddenly I tripped and fell, but instead of landing on the grass I descended into a dark well.  I kept falling deeper and deeper.  The sunlight that had been so beautiful a moment ago was no longer there.  I could not see nor hear anything except for the sound of my frantic breathing.  I kept reaching out for something, anything, to grab a hold of, but all there seemed to be was cold, slick rocky walls.  Finally I grasped a root that must’ve made its way through the stoney barrier and held on with both hands, desperate.  It was a very precarious situation with no hope of getting any help. I’d have to get back up, somehow, on my own. 

While dangling there my mind was racing, trying to come up with a solution.  My arms were getting so tired and sore, body was bruised from the long fall down, and my feet were immersed in icy cold water.  All I could see was utter darkness. 

The water was rising higher and I began to sob. The harder I cried, the tougher it was to hold on to the root. I was getting so weary. 

Finally, with what I was sure was my last breath I squeaked out a “help!”, knowing no one was there to hear but feeling the need anyhow.

Amazingly, there was a man’s voice responding.  I never heard him approach with all the crying and carrying on I was doing, but he was there.  He said, “Take my hand”. 

At first I couldn’t see his hand because it was too dark, I sensed it I suppose.  I didn’t want to let go of the root because of the terror of falling.  On the other hand I was quickly loosing my grip, so why not?  It occurred to me it was taking a long time to make the decision. I was so afraid his patience would run out and he’d leave, but he didn’t.  He kept his hand right here the whole time and didn’t utter another word.  Working up the courage to reach out to him, I let go with one hand, certain I would be swallowed up by the murky water. But he had a firm warm grip on my fingers before sinking an inch. 

Something seemed different about his hand but I wasn’t quite ready to figure out what that was. 

He said, “Now let go with your other hand, it’s all right, I’ve got you.”  Knowing there was nothing to lose, I did.  His other hand grabbed a hold of mine and he gently pulled me up, out of the water and onto a narrow ledge along the side of the wall, which I hadn’t noticed before.  I was still crying, still terrified.  

He patiently let me hold his hands for comfort and I started to calm down.

It was too dark to see him so I began to fear him due to ignorance. Where he had come from? Would he lead the rest of the way out? What would happen if we didn’t make it out of the pit?  What would happen if we did?

I dropped his hands.  

He said: “There’s only one way out of here.”

I asked him what it was, hoping he’d tell me and leave, but he didn’t. Instead he replied: “Trust me.”

Should he be trusted? With timid faith I reached out to him with one fist, which he tenderly took a hold of.  Like before, there was something different about his hand but was too angsty to figure out what it was.

With no coercion, just gentle guidance, he continued to lead us up this narrow ridge.  I’d slip and fall along the way but he was always there to catch me when I called out to him.  The climb seemed long and arduous, my muscles were getting so sore, and I was still cold, though not to the degree as before. 

He never said much, never explained where we were going so I kept trying to figure out how to get out of there alone, but I felt so lost just thinking about it.

Eventually I could see a little light above us. It looked so good, like a ray of hope.  Couldn’t see the man in front of me, though; he was still in the shadows.  

The closer we got to the light the better I began to feel.  My muscles and bruises weren’t so sore.  I was still cold and tired, but the warmth and brightness from the illumination was chasing away the chill, and waking me up. 

I decided it was easier to just consistently hold on to his hand instead of slipping and falling so much.

A voice inside my head kept screaming louder that I should let him go, and continue on my own. The destination seemed so close, and easy enough to attain. 

He must have sensed the internal struggle because he said, “You have a choice, you know.”  At that moment I realized I didn’t want to continue alone anymore, which completely surprised me.  

I looked at him and still couldn’t see his features.  I asked him with wariness, ‘I’d like to hold on, please?”  He didn’t say a thing but I could sense his smile, and suddenly it felt like I was coming ALIVE!  My whole being was opening up.  I was still nervous about everything however, so I cast my eyes down and continued to let Him lead.  

It took quite a bit longer but my steps weren’t so heavy because my fears were falling away.  It helped immensely to be growing in faith, knowing I wasn’t lost and wandering alone anymore.  

We were almost to the top when the ledge we were walking on ended with no where to go. My guide was no longer in front of me.  I frantically looked around and there he was, overhead, arms stretching towards me, asking me to leap up to him.  I looked down to see the distance we came, and to determine how far the fall would be if he didn’t catch me, knowing I would not be able to catch hold of that root again.  I started to panic and looked up at him, but I couldn’t see his face for the light around him was blinding; I could only see his arms.  I sighed and cried a bit, and still he kept reaching down for me.  I took a deep breath, jumped, and pleaded with him to please, please catch me which, of course, he did.  

I stood there completely dazed, trying to catch my breath, my bearing.  I was still crying, but for different reasons.  He held me.

In gratitude I sank to my knees and reached up to grab his hand, only this time to thank him.  I bent my head over his palm and could see what was different.  At the base of it was a hole, and I kissed it.  I took a hold of his other hand, which had a similar wound, and kissed it also.

I bent down to his bare feet, each with their own puncture wound, and kissed them.

I finally looked up at him, His face, and saw all the radiant beauty I could ever hope to witness.  The compassion and love in his eyes was so overwhelming . . . I could say nothing, just weep with joy, but He knew what I meant.  He smiled, put his arms around me again, and picked me up, again. Which he still does, all I have to do is ask.

Thank You, Jesus!

c. Pearl E. M.