step of faith

Apparently my friends and I don’t have enough excitement in our lives, because this past Saturday we paid good money to strap our procreative areas into safety harnesses and zipline across metal cords 85 feet above the ground.

Each of the nine lines was longer! faster! higher! than the previous ones; reaching the last three required climbing up steps pounded in the side of a tree or inching across a rope bridge. Once we arrived, our very nice guide Peter would unhook one safety harness (that prevented falling from the tree) and hook another (that prevented death after you jump off).

Despite my fear of heights I was enjoying the experience…..until #8. After successfully navigating the ladder and pulling myself up three steep steps, I stood, appropriately hooked/unhooked, contemplating the drop in front of my small wooden perch and the forested gorge I was about to sail through.

Another moment.


One more second.


“Are you…….” This from Peter.

“I’m going.”


I walked to the platform’s edge. Deep breath. Sign of the cross and a kiss of my thumb for extra luck.


A step forward……………………………


Air. Quiet. (No, I didn’t scream.) Leaves rustling, the cable zipping on its track, flying through the trees, picking up speed, delivering me to the steep bank of logs on the other side.

After all that fear, the ride was over too soon and I landed safely and smiling. It took just one step to launch me forward—but what a difficult step.


Later, unhooked for good, I thought about another group who faced a more challenging decision. In Joshua 3, the Israelites need to cross the Jordan River to claim the promised land, and God tells the priests carrying the ark to lead the people into the water.

Joshua, in what must have felt like one of the hardest sells in history, told the priests that as soon as they set foot in the Jordan, all the water flowing downstream would stop.

“Now the Jordan is at flood stage all during harvest,” the story continues in verse 15. “Yet as soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing. It piled up in a heap a great distance away, at a town called Adam in the vicinity of Zarethan, while the water flowing down to the Salt Sea was completely cut off. So the people crossed over opposite Jericho. The priests who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood firm on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan, while all Israel passed by until the whole nation had completed the crossing on dry ground.”

My step off the zipline ledge was no great risk; I had faith in my safety harness and had seen others successfully complete the course. My guide stood next to me, physically present to provide help. And on the very slim chance I injured myself, a competent doctor (or at least the semi-competent one covered by my paltry insurance) would be able to ice a bruise or mend a sprained ankle.

But these brave priests faced much higher stakes. They had no harness or safety rope if the water’s undertow tugged them down. They had no example to follow. And if they messed up, if Joshua was wrong or they failed to follow the directions accurately or God changed his mind, the entire nation could die.

God invites us to be co-creators of the world and its history. He will meet us, help us, maybe even bring moments of quiet and joy along the way, but he often asks us to take the first step without any guarantees. More than I would like, traveling with God still means trusting a Guide I don’t see and don’t understand, who may not respond when I’d like or in the way I expect.


On Saturday I learned several things: I hold my breath when I get scared. I look less than ravishing in a helmet. And first steps are the most difficult—but maybe the most important.

Where do you need to take a step of faith in your life? What’s holding you back?