You Don't Need to See the Whole Staircase

Uncle Tom's Trail - Yellowstone National Park, WY 328 Steps, 8,000ft altitude

I have a thing with heights. It's a pretty straightforward thing–I don't like them. Generally, it's not a problem for me to keep my feet planted solidly on terre firma, but every so often, I find it necessary to be more than twelve inches off the ground. This usually happens when my husband and I are on vacation, and stairs of one sort or another are involved.

One ladder on the way to Head Harbour (East Quoddy) Lighthouse, Campobello Island, New Brunswick, Canada

Not the one, or two, or even three flights of stairs kind. Oh no, the hundreds of stairs kind that are outside, frequently with no railing, and always threateningly close to immanent doom.

I do my best not to travel those stairways I am sure do not lead to heaven. In my defense, I quote verses like "Low, I am with you always." (MKB Version) However, those stairways while terrifying, often lead to some incredible places, and my desire to see them eventually outweighs my desire to stay right where I am. So, I put one foot in front of the other and climb those open metal slats . . . or the rickety wooden bridge that would be better suited for a made-for-tv murder mystery . . . or the ladder so rusty going for a tetanus shot afterward would be prudent.

In these situations, I've come to rely on a couple of strategies to help me push through from where I am to where I want to be. First, I quote a real version of my favorite scripture verse, Isaiah 41;10, "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." I white-knuckle my way clinging to that verse and that righteous right hand.

Yellowstone Canyon Lower Falls, the bottom of Uncle Tom's Trail

I also remind myself that I don't have to see the whole staircase to get where I'm going. I just need to see the step in front of me, and take it. Then take one step more . . . and then another . . . then another. Concentrating on the step in front of me keeps me from being overwhelmed by the entirety of the task to come. I can do one step.

I've found this principle to be true for the rest of my life as well. I concentrate on the step God has placed in front of me, take it, and trust in doing so, He's preparing me for the next step to come. When I take that approach, no matter where I am, I find I'm on solid ground.