It stands 125 feet tall and when you're a little girl, that's a lot of steps - in circular fashion nonetheless - to climb in order to get to the top.
I had a fear of the steps in the monument. I'm not sure if I was afraid of getting to the top, or the amount of work it would take to get to the top, or the narrowing shape in which the concrete slabs had to be constructed in order to form a circular staircase. One step too close to the inside and you could take quite a tumble.
I knew at a young age that this was a fear I needed to conquer. I was determined to make it up those stairs one day. After seeing my apprehension on our first visit there, my dad didn't try to coerce or convince me to proceed (even though it was an irrational fear) but instead took me on home and waited for the next opportunity.
Some time later, I came to him proudly announcing I was ready. Patiently he loaded me into the car, took me to the tower, and stood close by while I climbed all of three steps and announced I could go no further that day and was ready to go. With gentleness he loaded me back in the car, took me home, and waited until the next time I said I was ready.
This sequence of events happened once or twice more, but eventually there was that day of victory when, with my dad following close behind, I made it to the top of the tower. And from there the view was breathtaking, spectacular; had I let my fear of the climb hold me back I would have never experienced the wonder of being above the trees and being able to see for miles.
My earthly father is gone now, but I have a heavenly Father who does the same kind of thing for me. When fear threatens to hold me back from something He has planned for me and knows I can do, He doesn't force. He's eternally patient. He lets me come around on my own time. He knows I'll get there eventually, and that when I see the view from His perspective, it'll take my breath away.
I only need to trust Him.
Posted by Beth Coulton