Last year my husband and I were holidaying at a resort in the Drakensberg Mountains in South Africa. I had for a long time wanted to try zip-lining above the panoply of trees in the area, but my husband, as well as my daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren, who were holidaying with us, refused the invitation to join me. Eventually, as my daughter and family had all returned home to Johannesburg, I decided to go ahead on my own, much to my husband’s dismay.
I was put with a young mom and her three young children. The course consisted of twelve zip-lines, with the fourth being the second longest and second highest in Southern Africa. On this zip-line, the young family went first. Then I followed, but it was as though my hands were frozen on the pulley. I could not let go with my right hand to put it on the cable to slow myself down as we had been shown. I was now hurtling toward the platform where the young family was waiting, and my fear was that I would plummet right into them. I automatically did what we had been warned not to do under any circumstances and put my right foot down to slow the incredible pace at which I was traveling.
This proved unsuccessful, and my foot hit a set of steel stairs on the platform with such force that I felt the foot snap back at the ankle. The pain was excruciating, and I felt as though I was going to pass out. But I started to pray with all the strength I could muster.
