Psalms 56:3 — “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.”

I stood at the edge of the woods that afternoon, just trying to catch my breath in the heat. I was standing in the shaded path near the ropes course at summer camp when I saw him.

A young boy—maybe seven—stood trembling on top of a telephone pole, tears dripping down his cheeks. His arms were rigid at his sides, and his knees shook beneath him.

This was the final challenge of the ropes course. They called it “The Leap of Faith.” The goal was simple: jump off the platform and reach for a nearby trapeze bar suspended in midair. But for this kid, it might as well have been the Grand Canyon.

From the ground, the belayer called up with gentle encouragement.

“You are safe, buddy. You are clipped in,” he said. “Those ropes are solid, but listen. You do not want to go back the way you came. Trust me. The safest way down is to jump.”

The boy stood frozen for what felt like forever. I wondered if he would try climbing down. Then, quietly, he bent his knees and jumped.

When he caught the bar, the grin that broke out across his face was unforgettable. All the fear was still hanging in the air, but now it was drowned out by something louder: joy.

That memory has stayed with me for years. Not because of the stunt, but because I have lived in that tension—wanting to turn back, doubting what I cannot see, standing on the edge of something that looks impossible.

But sometimes the only way forward is a leap. Not reckless. Not blind. But real, trusting faith grounded in the confidence that you are already held.

If you are standing on a ledge today, frozen with fear, listen closely. There is a Voice calling to you—not shouting, not rushing—but reminding you that, while the way forward might feel risky, you are not unprotected. You are never alone.

Friend, you may not see the harness, but that does not make it any less secure.