We took Jack to Adventure Park in Tulsa last week.
It had these insanely tall wooden forts… like something out of a medieval dream or a pirate movie.
He’s 3. He’s fast.
And he’s watching the older kids with wide eyes… trying to do everything they do.
Naturally, he grabs my hand and pulls me into the chaos.
Did I mention I’m afraid of heights?
He dragged me up this tower… a seven-story fortress of splintery wood, ropes, and questionable safety inspections.
And with every level we climbed, two things became clearer:
1. I was very afraid.
2. He very much was not.
He kept pulling my hand, step by step, squealing with joy.
“C’mon DADDY!”
Meanwhile, every alarm bell in my adult brain was blaring:
“This is too high.”
“This is not safe.”
“This is not wise.”
I glanced around and saw it on the other dads’ faces too…
The tension of keeping little humans alive in a world made for adventure.
And right there — in the middle of the wooden tower, surrounded by laughter and panic —
I had this moment.
A quiet, holy moment.
This is exactly what walking with God feels like.
He’s not afraid.
He’s not panicking.
He’s not worried about how high it all is.
He just keeps grabbing my hand…
saying, “Onward and upward.”
When I was younger, I was wired for risk.
Adventure was the plan.
I remember being 23, sitting with my wife in our first little apartment, praying:
“God, we’ll go anywhere. Do anything.”
I meant it.
And I still do.
But…
I’m in my mid-30s now.
And I still crave adventure…
But I’m also terrified of its implications.
Like Bilbo cracking open the front door and seeing Gandalf on the path —
part of me dreams of dragons and distant mountains,
and part of me really loves second breakfast in the Shire.
The last 7 years have been a whirlwind.
And if I’m honest, it feels like God’s been having way too much fun dragging me out of my comfort zone.
God: Leave a church staff job that you love. Become a missionary.
Me: To Ireland?
God: Yep… for a few months… then… PSYCHE. Oklahoma, lol.
God: Don’t take a full time job! Freelance to stay open for ministry work. Build websites. But give half of the ones you build away for free to small churches and missionaries!
Me: That seems like an odd business model.
God: Trust me, it’ll be GREAT.
God: Now… go start a Bible study in a coffee shop to help local youth ministry volunteers!
Me: Ok, sounds good. (One year later) wow this seems to be bearing fruit.
God: Sweet now shut it down to go help a local church plant, they need you to be their youth pastor.
Me: Ok… umm.. here goes nothing.
God: Actually, plot twist, COVID is going to mess up ALL the plans… they don’t have the budget for you as a youth pastor, so you’re just gonna jump in as a volunteer.
Me: Wait wait…?
God: Now go start a Christian podcast network to reach Gen Z! And an online Bible study to help people struggling during COVID. It’ll be so rad.
God: And and and… take this job with a nonprofit org that serves churches worldwide! It’ll be GREAT!
Me: ….ok!? (A few years later) Wow this seems to be super fruitful and helping a lot of —
God: Here comes a surprise layoff!!
Me: …oh no.
God: Oh YES! Keep going! Start and run a School of Discipleship for young adults in the midwest! Serve churches that don’t have young adults groups/ Teach them deep theology/spiritual formation! Also, you’re gonna moonlight as a voice actor to help pay the bills.
Me: I am so confused.
God: That means you’re gonna have to trust me!
If I had known how high this tower went,
I might’ve stayed on the ground. But every step… every twist… every height…
He’s been there.
Holding my hand.
Saying: “Onward and upward.”
And I don’t want to be the dad in the fort who stays at the bottom.
I want to be the one who climbs — afraid but faithful
trusting the One who isn’t scared at all.
This isn’t a weird anomaly in the story of faith.
This is the story.
God calls people upward.
Abraham: “Leave your land… I’ll show you where we’re going.”
Moses: “Climb Sinai, meet Me in the fire.”
David: “Walk through caves before you wear a crown.”
Daniel: “Kneel, even if lions wait.”
Elijah: “Stand alone on Mount Carmel.”
The disciples: “Drop your nets. Follow Me.”
Jesus: “Take up your cross.”
It’s always been a climb.
But I wouldn’t trade the climb for anything. Each step, each wind of the staircase, has deepened my trust in ways comfort never could.
Yes…the stress has increased. But so has my faith. Because He’s proven Himself, again and again.
And the higher we go, the better the view. Not always easier… but clearer.
More like His perspective.
Even in the hardest season of my life…
there’s been so much good.
Friendships. Fruitfulness. Faith.
A son we adore.
A daughter on the way.
A child in heaven we long to meet.
So if you’re reading this in the middle of your own climb…
maybe you’re breathless.
Maybe the wind is howling.
Maybe you miss the safety of the ground…
Hold tight.
He’s still holding your hand.
He’s not panicking.
He’s not confused.
He just smiles, and says again:
“Onward, and upward.”
