The Scaffold (Don Don Donnn)

(Originally written July 17)

The moment I stood on the scaffold, my mind calmly—yet completely panicked—said, "Oh... I ain't doing this."

Has anyone else ever experienced a calm panic? Your heart isn't racing. You're not screaming. You're just quietly looking at the situation like… "Yeah... absolutely not."

I was asked by some of my favorite people to paint a café-themed mural. From the beginning, I was excited. It was a fast turnaround—just one week! Long hours, but nothing overly complicated since we had plenty of reference photos.

The only problem? The walls are about ten feet high. (I'm not actually sure.) In my mind, though? Somewhere between ten and one hundred feet. For context, I'm 4'11½". Most fourth graders are taller than me. Even standing on a ladder, I still couldn't reach the top portions of the wall where the mural really needed to go. Who designed this thing?! 🥴🤣

Thankfully, the café had a scaffold. I saw it and thought, Perfect. I'll just use that. I'd never been on one before, but how different could it be?

I climbed up, sat on the platform, got ready to stand... looked down and said,

"Oh nah... I'm good on that." I climbed right back down. Apparently, I carried fear up there. But the mural must go on, so I grabbed my ladder instead. The ladder felt familiar. Safer. The only problem was... it couldn't get me where I needed to go; it only got me to comfortable.

That'll preach all by itself. Can you tell I'm a PK?!

A few friends who happened to be in the café noticed what was happening.

"Destiny, you'll cover so much more space on the scaffold. It has railings. You can move around. It's safe."

Trying to convince me, I reluctantly climbed back up. This time I sat there with my feet dangling over the edge.

When I tried to stand... I sat right back down. My body wasn't shaking. My voice was steady. But my hands and feet started sweating like they were working in Carolina heat. My mind kept saying, Absolutely not, and I had no problem admitting it out loud.

"I'm afraid... and I'm coming down."

My dad happened to be in the room. He looked at me and said, "I'm shocked!"

I laughed, "Honestly... so am I. But I can't do it. I'm coming down."

Everyone around me kept asking,

"What would make you feel more comfortable? What do you need?"

One person even offered to help me down. Before I could answer, my pastor immediately said,

"You will not..." Not harshly. It wasn't condemnation or embarrassment.

It was belief.

It was someone looking at me and saying,

"No. She is safe. She can do this."

:

That moment revealed something I wasn't expecting. I realized just the fear of heights. The Holy Spirit gently exposed places in my heart where fear had quietly partnered with distrust. Not because the people around me had given me a reason not to trust them, but because there were still places in me that needed healing.

Pass the offering plate and give the scaffold a mic because babyyyyy... we're having church at this point!

What's even scarier than standing on a scaffold is becoming so comfortable with fear that you stop questioning it—you simply accept it.

Instead of confronting it, you adjust your life around it.

You grab the ladder. The ladder of comfort. The ladder of control. The ladder of familiarity.

The ladder that never quite reaches where God is calling you.

Then we wonder why we can't paint the upper part of the mural of our lives. Sometimes the thing limiting us isn't our ability. It's our unwillingness to stand somewhere unfamiliar.

Ouch! Stepping on toes ain't it!

I sat on that scaffold for about five to ten minutes, gathering my anxious self. Then I slowly started painting again—still sitting down, but higher. 😂

Quietly praying,

"Okay, God... I guess this is another thing we're working on."

A fear of losing control. A fear of trusting other people. A fear of needing help and support.

:

Faith has always required upward movement.

Hebrews 10:38: "And I take no pleasure in the one who shrinks back."

You can't retreat to comfort and call it faith. Sometimes faith simply looks like standing up when every part of you wants to sit back down.

The most beautiful parts of this story weren't that I eventually stood—because honestly, I sat and painted as much as possible. It was how people surrounded me while I was afraid. No one laughed to shame me. We all laughed at how this scaffold had me sitting down. No one told me to "just get over it."

They surrounded the scaffold. They reassured me.

They coached me. They reminded me I was safe until I finally thought,

"Okay... let's try again."

A few years ago, pride would've told me,

"I don't need anybody or thats good enough." I would've climbed back down, grabbed my ladder, and convinced myself it was enough.

But I'm learning to sound different these days.

"I hear you. Thank you for helping me. Let's try again... slowly!"

God didn't create us to conquer fear in isolation.

He gives us Himself. He gives us community.

Proverbs 18:1: "He who [willfully] separates himself [from God and man] seeks his own desires; he quarrels against all sound wisdom."

Sometimes He places people around us who lovingly say,

"No... you're not coming down. You can do this."

That's love.

As I write this, I still have to finish the mural. I'll still have to climb that scaffold again and stand to paint. This mural became a mirror, reflecting places in my heart I didn't know still existed. Those discoveries aren't always fun, but they're gifts when the Holy Spirit reveals them. Revelation gives us knowledge of where healing can begin. Maybe that's what growth often looks like—not pretending we're fearless, but allowing the kindness of God to expose the places where fear has been quietly living so He can teach us how to stand.

Exposure leads to truth... if you'll let it.

John 16:13: "When the Holy Spirit, who is truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth..."

1 John 2:20: "But you have an anointing from the Holy One [you have been set apart, specially gifted and prepared by the Holy Spirit], and all of you know the truth because He teaches us, illuminates our minds, and guards us from error."

UPDATE (8/2): I actually have since stood up, and now I'm comfortably walking back and forth on the scaffold!!! 🙌

I'm giving fear no more room.