I’ve always had a mild case of claustrophobia.  Growing up, my family and I spent a lot of our vacations in the Southwestern states, which sports a large number of canyons, some of which are aptly named ‘slot canyons’ – so narrow that you have to turn sideways to get through.  Some are so narrow that a normal person can’t even turn their head.  Needless to say, thanks to claustrophobia, I don’t care for slot canyons, but due to my frequent proximity to them – well, let’s just say I’ve been through my fair share.

This fear of tight spaces has been with me most of my life.  I can’t point to the moment I ‘knew’ that I didn’t like them, but I would guess that I was seven or eight the first time I had a near panic attack when in a slot canyon.

As I grew older, I began to identify some ways that helped me deal with slot canyons.  For example, I need to be the last person in the canyon.  If I know that there isn’t a way for me to exit, I can’t stand it.  It’s better if I’m not the first, either, since I kind of like to know something is passable before I walk in and potentially get myself stuck.  Also, if I can keep panic at bay, I’m better, but if I start pushing against rock walls (that obviously aren’t going to move no matter how hard I push) and letting panic grab me, it’s over.

It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I realized what it was that enabled me to get through slot canyons without panicking.  Blame this on the fact that physical touch is reassuring to me, but what I need is to be holding someone’s hand, and have them lead me through the slot canyon.  I discovered this in Pioneer Park in St. George, Utah when someone else in the group had come into the canyon behind me and I was panicking because it was so tight I couldn’t turn my head to look back at where I’d come from.  And I didn’t know where the end was.

I recall backing out of the canyon twice (and making said group member back out with me, since they were blocking my exit) before my older brother grabbed my hand and helped me through, all the way to the other side, and I thought, “Oh, that wasn’t that bad.”  After that, I went through the slot several more times – alone.

It’s kind of like what happens when we’re walking with Jesus.  Sometimes, He takes us into some pretty tight spaces, when we are not sure how we’re going to get through it.  Some of us (me!!) are spiritually claustrophobic and we don’t like tight spaces.  If we will just take Jesus’s hand, He is willing to lead us through even the tightest spaces – maybe so tight that you can’t look back at your exit plan.

I’ve discovered that when I’m in the tightest slot canyon and I literally can’t turn to look back and the only way to go is forward, I must take His hand and trust that He knows where the end is.  And when I’m in a particularly tight spot, I like to remind myself that He went through here first, since He is the one who is leading me.  He fit, so as I conform to His image, I’ll fit too.

Slot canyons are a reality of our spiritual lives, so take Jesus’s hand, and let Him lead you.  Not only will it make the slot easier to get through, but His peace that is so much greater than our understanding will also keep the ‘spiritual claustrophobia’ at bay.