This is The Giant Slide in Detroit, Michigan. When I was little, I would get so tired of climbing all these tiny little steps (so easy to trip) & I was bit afraid of the slide. But in spite of, I climbed all the way to the top (Seemed like it took forever!). I positioned myself, someone pushed me, and I slid- taking on each of the huge bumps,… because my Daddy told me I could.
The ride was a trip. I experienced every emotion possible. There was no one or nothing to hold onto, except possibly the edges of the mat I sat upon. Sometimes I soared in the air and landed properly back on the slide. At other times, I would spin out of control or my mat flew from under me and I was burned a little by the hot metal. But I always completed the ride. I’d reach the bottom- sometimes laughing, sometimes screaming, most times breathless- at times bruised, limping and hiding the tears from being wounded… and Dad would simply hand me another ticket and say, “Go again.” Lord, help us to go again.
Grace to you!