Rides

I'm not a brave person. I don't know that I've ever done anything brave. I have done dangerous things and lots and lots of foolish things. Sometimes I did dangerous things because I didn't know any better, sometimes because I was too afraid to admit I was a coward, and sometimes because it had to be done. I've gotten off a motorcycle just about every way imaginable: high-side, low-side, over the handlebars and off the back. Every once in a while I stopped the bike before I got off. I've tried riding horses that didn't want to be ridden — and I know a couple of unique ways of dismounting. I've been punched, kicked, stomped, knocked down, and my pastor ran over me with a car. I'm not brave but I do have a high tolerance for pain.

Snakes used to scare me. My mom once beat me for what seemed like a good thirty minutes trying to get me to go into the cellar after, I think, a jar of pickles. I had seen a lizard's tail — but it could have been a snake — flash behind something down there the day before and a whipping didn't seem all that bad. I have a high tolerance for pain. I'm not scared of snakes any more, but they still creep me out. If I walk up on one unexpectedly, I exhale forcefully enough to make a distinctive sound, sort of like "ah-fhoo". Releasing my ki, I then moonwalk about six inches off the ground and proceed to chop the poor creature into multiple pieces or blast it into the next county.

I used to be afraid of heights, but I could climb to the top of any tree — maybe I figured I'd hit a limb on the way down. I could shinny up a rope, but I didn't trust ladders. Eventually I got used to stuff like that. Flying never bothered me, though otherwise I don't necessarily like being more than twenty or thirty feet off the ground, and I'd never make it as an ironworker, but I wouldn't call it a phobia.

I rode all the rides at the fair when I was a kid. I never liked the ferris wheel unless I was riding with a kissable girl. The first really cool rollercoaster I rode was at Silver Dollar City: Fire In The Hole. It was a brandnew ride when I got on in 1972. A few days ago I rode it with my fifteen-year-old granddaughter, and, even though we had ridden it about seven times in a row just before the park closed for the winter, it still made her scream when we took the first drop in the dark. It is a combination dark ride and rollercoaster, all indoors, and a cult classic.

But SDC has more rollercoasters these days. There is Thunderation, a rather modest steel coaster that goes through a tunnel and has several cars turned backward. It tops out a little under 50mph and has an 80-foot drop. Then there is Powderkeg, a launched coaster that goes from a deadstop to 53 mph in 2.8 seconds. You'll pull about 3.9g's on Powderkeg. It tops out close to 65mph and has a 110-foot drop. It is over half a mile long, has lots of curves, and is very smooth despite the acceleration. I'd call it my favorite Silver Dollar City ride. Finally, there is Wildfire. It maxes out at 3.6g's, but the top speed is a little higher than Powderkeg. It also has a 155 foot drop and I don't know how many inversions. I don't know how many inversions, despite the fact that I rode it twice last Saturday. A bunch. Upside down is not one of my favorite positions. I can handle acceleration. The drop isn't that bad, but upside down I wasn't too sure about.

It was just my granddaughter and me on the rides, and she cannot be intimidated. I was with her on her first little steel rollercoaster — which also went upside down. I can still hear her screaming that she was going to kill me for talking her into it. She's fifteen. Probably next year or the year after, she'll be riding with a boyfriend. Loops don't make any difference. We rode Powderkeg and the Giant Swing. The Swing was kind of a letdown. It's not nearly as cool as our old favorite the Orbiter at the late lamented Celebration City park.

From the Swing we went to Wildfire. I was not really looking forward to it, but I wasn't going to back out. I made sure the pockets of my cargo pants were well secured. You're in a car on Wildfire, but you can't touch the floor. The harness comes down and buckles with a couple of seatbelt-type straps. There's no question that you are locked in tight. I made it all right going up the hill and through the big drop. I saw that first loop coming, and I did the unthinkable. I shut my eyes. Like a twelve-year-old girl. I don't think I screamed. After that, the loops just kept coming, and I made it without a major heartattack. We left the park for a little while to eat a late lunch and came back to ride Thunderation backward until our backs gave out. Then we hit Powderkeg three or four more times.

Finally, after sunset, it was back for one more shot at Wildfire. My granddaughter was going to ride it by herself, thinking, I suppose, that I hadn't really enjoyed it the last time. She had seen my pained picture in the gallery. Now the crowd had thinned. As I walked toward the entrance, I thought about the harness. I checked my pockets. Lunch had been shaken down on the other rides. There was no chance I was going to lose it. "I think I'm good this time," I said. "I think I'll ride."

I was relaxed enough as I strapped in. With eyes wide-open, I took in the sometimes blurred track ahead. Every turn, every loop was just more to be enjoyed. I was completely at peace, laughing in the cool breeze, ground over my head, stars under foot.

God answers prayers, then, through the limitless array of experiences, reactions, and thoughts that come to us, both despite of and in light of what we may think of as unanswered prayers. There are always responses ... (Spoto, In Silence)

Prayer is never unanswered. It sensitizes us to the will of God. God's will is revealed to us as we pray, and, in our prayer, we find the power to embrace that will and unite our own with His. We find that His will is not something to dread. Jesus was not masochistic or stoic when He said, "Not My will, but Thine be done", and neither are we.

In fact, it is a lot like learning to love rollercoasters and thrill rides. Once you are convinced that the designers mean to create sensations rather than kill you, it is easy to relax and — ok, maybe not relax — but thoroughly enjoy the trip. Once we learn that God's intention is not to destroy us or play games with us, but rather to give us eternal, abundant life, joy, and peace, we may not be able to exactly relax, but we can certainly begin to appreciate the track we find ourselves on. Even if it's upside down in the dark.