Geoffrey Johnstone is the Pastor of the Seymour Baptist Church
I am afraid of heights.
It’s not a problem, because my job does not require a ladder. But there have been a couple of embarrassing moments. Our family holiday sometimes includes the Otway Treetop Walk. The gangplank stretches for 600m and rises to 30m above the ground to a tower that will take you even higher.
My Scottish wife loves the view.
“Oh darling,” she cried out from somewhere above the canopy.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Ten years ago my work took me to Hong Kong for a four-day visit.
“Mr and Mrs Johnstone, welcome to the YMCA,” the concierge greeted us with enthusiasm.
“To celebrate your first visit we are giving you the executive suite.”
I watched with rising panic as a blinking light recorded the lift’s progress to the 22nd floor.
My fear of heights has no relationship to the real world.
Yet, for some reason I felt certain that an unknown force was about to throw me off the roof.
“Mr Johnstone, the windows in your room are from floor to ceiling,” our hotel porter explained.
When he opened the door I stayed in the corridor as he drew back the curtains to reveal the world’s most beautiful harbour.
“Mr Johnstone, come and look, the people on the sidewalk look so small,” he said.
It only took me a few minutes to return to the lobby. It took slightly longer for the room to stop spinning.
“We are so sorry, Mr Johnstone,” the concierge said in a voice that sounded like she was talking to a frightened child.
“We will fix this for you.”
Experts believe the human brain can create three ideas every two seconds.
So, what followed took about three seconds.
My first thought was: “I must look really foolish in front of these nice people.”
My second thought was a line from Star Trek: “Fear exists to be defeated.”
My third thought was a quote from Billy Graham: “The Bible says ‘fear not’ 365 times. That’s one for every day of the year.”
My last thought was a line from a motivational speaker: “Fear is a strong arm that quickly tires when you resist it.”
When I returned to my room I spoke from the corridor. “Honey, could you close the curtains, please?”
My head spun, my legs felt like lead weights and my heart pounded.
When I turned on the shower I gripped the handrail to stop myself flying out the window.
Then suddenly it was gone.
Fear left me like an old bathrobe falling from my shoulders.
When I pressed my head against the window, the people on the sidewalk really did look small.
Sometimes you just have to face your fears.
My granddaughter bought a puppy because she is afraid of dogs.
My son travelled to Scotland because he is afraid of flying.
Don’t let fear define you. Don’t let it hold you back.