The CLICKITY-CLACK of life's coaster...

Last night, I had a strange dream: Me and a faceless friend were at an amusement park, preparing to hop on the first roller coaster we saw that didn't have an excessive line. Once we found it, we started strolling through the galley like excited children. I'm sure most of you've felt that before at amusement parks, speeding through an empty line as the park nears its close so you can double or triple ride one of the attractions. Skipping around every corner, occasionally hopping over a section or two.

Once we got to the boarding station, it became apparent to me why this coaster lacked any riders — the first drop, preceded by what looked to be a limitless ascent, was beyond the clouds and into the stratosphere. In fact, you couldn't even see what the drop was. My heart jumped, as I'm scared to death of heights, but this faceless friend kept pushing me on, goading me into the last seat because "it's the fastest and you can get buggy-whipped from the speed." Before I could blink, I was sitting in the final car of an empty train watching the attendant wave goodbye as we left the station.

To make matters worse as we started the slow, clackity-clack of the ascent, my restraint didn't feel right. In fact, it wasn't restraining me from anything...CLACKITY-CLACK. I squirmed as we continued the ascent to this limitless peak, which — in my mind — held what would be the most massive inverted drop I've ever experienced...CLACKITY-CLACK. Pulling down the restraint, I could still feel myself slipping under it, and through it, with no semblance of protection from the impending climax and subsequent drop.

CLACKITY-CLACK, CLACKITY-CLACK...closer the climax came, and the more panicked I became. My stomach churned. There was no way I could stay in the car for the first drop, nonetheless the entire ride, and I couldn't find a way to get myself secure. CLACKITY-CLACK, CLACKITY-CLACK, CLACKITY-CLACK...the time of ascent — which should have take much longer to complete — neared its end. Still, no sense of security, no matter how hard I pulled or pushed or hung onto the restraints.

CLACKITY-CLACK...CLACK...CLACK...CLACK...CLACK...the moment arrived and my heart stopped in its tracks as I peered out over the vast expanse of the globe. The final CLACK slowed as the cars reached their final ascent. A pause, and then, knowing my restraints were of little use to me, I took one peaceful deep breath and hung on for dear life as my faceless partner patted my shoulder in support. CLACK (pause) CLACK (pause) CLACK...silence...silence stead for the slight breeze above all the Earth whistling through my ears, and all the panic within in me peaked like a acid wave before the wheels turned, and the cars began to follow the track down through the clouds into the nearly infinite drop.

But a funny thing happened on the way down: the drop never came. In fact, it was merely a short dip into a ride that more resembled a kiddy park attraction than one found at a Six Flags. Up and down, it tickled my tummy but never did we find ourselves in any real danger. The restraints, which I feared would never hold, tightened up and we rode the hilly coaster until we finally arrived safely into the station.

So invigorated from the emotional spectrum I had just experienced, I unlocked my restraints, and ran quickly to the front of the coaster, plopped down in the front seat and was ready to give it another ride, this time so I could enjoy the ascent and all the beauty it entailed that I had missed in my panicked state the first time. My excitement peaked, only to find out the ride was now closed for the night and I had to vacate the amusement park.

I can still feel the sense of panic in my gut now as I re-tell the story. Every sense was vivid in detail and every emotion unquestioned. The dream itself became symbolic of how so many of us face the coming adversity. How many times in life do we rashly hop on what looks to be an easy trail and then find out its far from easy, and reserved for only experienced climbers? We kick, scream, cry, panic in every moment leading to our climax, only to find out our fears were unfounded and the worst was merely of our own creation.

Panic is such a deceptive emotion. Salesmen use it to close business deals through the sense of urgency, teachers use to through pop quizzes, parents use it to arrive to church on time and we force it upon ourselves when we live through circumstances we are unsure about. In essence, panic is as man-made as plutonium and as pointless as gills on an flat screen TV. We burden ourselves with this emotion, blinding ourselves to the beauty of the journey around us as we travel each path.

In my own life, I have some major hurdles to conquer in the next few months. There is plenty of uncertainty ahead of me, but somewhere — like my faceless ride partner — there is Someone encouraging us to stare it head on and live without fear, despite possible failure. Why do we always fear failure? Failure is the world's greatest teaching tool. We don't learn much through victory because it easily masks the flaws within us. It's through failure that we learn to adapt and rise above the lesson to become something better, something evolved.

We are drenched in failure, whether you see it or not. As humans, we are flawed and lacking in so many ways. We kill our own, we steal from our own, and we treat others with contempt instead of like family. Our society is so lost that we'd sell our own first-born for a leg up in this world, with common decency floating out the window from our wrist like a child's complimentary carnival balloon.

To survive, we must embrace the roller coaster of life, stare it head on and NEVER forget what's most important — the view itself. If we spend the entire ascent worrying if we're going to survive the fall, we miss out on all the beauty leading up to it. Sure, the fall may be massive but sometimes — most times — it is hardly ever as bad as it seems. We make mountains out of molehills so many times in this life that we forget about the beauty of the here and now. Worse, we never get a second chance to experience because once the time passes, you can't go back and re-ride the experience. The park's closed.

Let go of the panic, the fear, that pollutes our ability to enjoy today. We're never guaranteed tomorrow and we never even get a chance to reach the peak we fear so much. Faith in something better, in God, provides us our own riding partner because there is no question in my mind that He is sitting there, riding shotgun, smiling at our own blindness. If we spend less time worrying about our restraints and more time enjoying the ascent, we can see Him gesturing to all the beautiful landmarks of life as we slowly climb the CLICKITY-CLACK of passing time.

The ascension does not allow for do-overs, and panic only blinds you to the entire scope and span of its beauty. Don't miss out. Slow down, enjoy it, and let go of the panic you've created within your own heart. Give it away, and enjoy the ride...besides, who wants to have that memory captured with a sour face when we pass the "Coaster Cam?" I sure don't, and I will give my all to enjoy this ascension as best I can before it peaks, and is gone, never to return again.