I was so nervous; I couldn’t sleep many nights leading up to it.  When I was 18 years old, I had vowed never to attempt it.  A few weeks ago, I stood at its massive base, looking up at the towering, basalt columns and questioned my decision. Why had I come after all these years to make the conversion from tourist to climber by trying to summit the legendary heights of Devil’s Tower National Monument in Wyoming? 

My friend Daniel asked me a few months ago if I wanted to try to climb the Tower with him.  I guess because it had been a long time since I had been to Devil’s Tower, I had forgotten how terrifyingly high it is.  I hesitantly agreed, and in preparation, we studied routes and spent time lead climbing our local crags, all in the hope that we could gain enough skill to make the big ascent. 

I knew this climb would be much different from any I had done before. The multi-pitch climb, much higher than any one rope length, required we climb it in stages.  Daniel would first climb to a stopping point, and I would follow him up the route.  Then it would be my turn to lead up the next lengthy crack to a stopping point.  We would alternate back and forth in this fashion many times before reaching the summit.  It is an exhausting way to climb with no easy options for bailing out if the going gets tough.  You can see why I was unable to sleep a wink the night before we were to climb the tower. 

Wrestling with my fear even before arriving, I began to wonder if climbing Devil’s Tower was really God’s will for me.  So, I began to pray about it, asking God if my anxiety originated from the Holy Spirit’s warning me not to do something foolhardy or if it was just the common sense, nervousness that accompanies doing something difficult and scary.  The more I sought the Lord, the more peace I felt about the climb, yet naturally, some tension remained.  I confessed to my wife that though I didn’t feel like I was going to die, I did question whether I had the strength to be victorious over the mountain.  Dying on the attempt would be an extreme form of failure, but not making it to the top would feel quite devastating, none the less.  I asked her, my friends, and family to pray for me in this adventure. One morning as Julie and I prayed, I could picture the beautiful sight of Devil’s Tower emerging up out of the river valley, and suddenly I saw Daniel’s and my names in bubble letters on the top of the tower.  As I pictured this, I heard the still small voice of the Lord say, “I give it to you.” 

Even as I write those words, my eyes mist at the remembrance of God’s kind words to me.  His statement suddenly made sense.  He’d been making statements like this for ages.  Right from the start He put man in a garden and said, “I give it to you.  I give you dominion over the earth.”  Then as Abraham sojourned as a foreigner through a land that God would show him, the Lord revealed His awesome plan in Genesis 13:17, “Arise, walk through the length and the breadth of the land, for I will give it to you.”  Centuries later when Moses faced overwhelming leadership decisions among a questionable people, in Exodus 6:8 God reminded, “I will bring you into the land that I swore to give to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. I will give it to you for a possession. I am the LORD.”  Over and over again, God has revealed that He is generous and purposeful.  I did a quick search and found dozens of times where the Lord says, “I give… to you.”  Perhaps one of the most profound of these statements is John 15:16 when Jesus states, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.” 

​As Eli eyed me warily, then the ground far below, and then me again, the blood drained from his face and reality set in.  He had made it to the brink, but in his focus to get here and achieve the task, he had overlooked—more likely ignored—the one factor that would determine his success: What would he decide?  

Eli had spent the day quietly offering up his service to the group, pulling lines and hauling his teammates up to the platform waiting 30 feet high in the trees.  Another junior high group was assaulting our high initiative called Mt Zippie’s Revenge, an aptly named zip line that requires a unified group effort to get individual members up to the launch platform.  Eli had helped others and had then relied on his teammates to get him to the elevated platform, but when it came time to make a desperate personal choice of faith, he faltered at the height. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” he confided to me.  I told him I thought he could. 

“Will this hold me?” he asked, indicating the trolley apparatus.  I told him it would. 

He was looking now straight ahead, down the long cable that disappeared on the next rise across the valley.  Without taking his eyes off the terrifying expanse, he appealed, “What will it be like?”  I told him it would require faith; it would be exhilarating; and after he stepped off the platform, the only thing left to do would be to enjoy the ride. 

He looked at me with concern lining his brow, and I gave one last reassurance, “Go for it!” He hunched down awkwardly and shuffled his feet a couple inches to the edge. Then Eli half fell, half stepped off the platform, releasing an animal-like, guttural noise that emanated from the depths of his will, the place where choice, courage, and decision live. 

In an instant, he found himself zooming through the air, fully dependent on the zip line, the harness, and the trolley equipment. All the inhibitions and insecurities that had threatened his success he had willfully traded for the exhilaration of really living.  He was rapidly picking up speed about 20 feet out from the tower when the guttural noise erupted into an exuberant Hallelujah! What exclamation could be more fitting for that moment! It stuck with me. 

Hallelujah is actually a combination of two words Hebrew words, halal and Yah, that simply and profoundly mean, “Praise God!”  As I reflected on Eli’s proclamation and his struggle on the zip line launch pad, I began to see parallels in my own life. I am regularly faced with choices of faith, decisions that will inevitably leave me little or no control over the outcomes, and the feelings that Eli experienced atop the sheer drop of the zip line are only a magnified example of my own stepping off into a path that seems at best uncertain and at worst dangerous and costly.  As a believer who professes faith in an unseen God, though, I find myself zipping down the line-of-life-in-Christ on more occasions than are comfortable for me. 

I’m convicted by Eli’s response.  How often do I step out in faith, simply closing my eyes or hollering at the top of my lungs unintelligibly?  What if I grew a habit of raising a “Hallelujah!” at the very moment of faith, even before I’ve seen the outcome?  Isn’t this what the apostle Paul and Silas did in the Philippian prison? It appears they are facing certain doom, yet what are they doing?  Singing!  Praising God!  Hallelujah!  That’s when an earthquake comes and opens the prison doors, but the inmates don’t escape, the jailer doesn’t commit suicide, and lots of people get saved. 

​That’s the result of a Hallelujah! attitude.  Praise God anywhere, everywhere, at all times, at every age!

We are taking some time over the next several months to share some of the stories, situations, and meaning behind each of our Core Values and how these values have come to shape the ministry of Discovery Ministries. Constructed with Our Staff is our final Core Value. We continue to find these to be relevant to our current way of life in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic.

It’s what I don’t see that really inspires me.  I was instructing a rock climb the other day and had set up our more challenging climbing route.  Try as they might, none of teens could make the crux move to get to the top.  After exhausting all their energy on failed attempts, they turned to me and said, “Let’s see you do it.”  I have scaled this familiar climb many times, so with graceful effort I hauled myself up the face, past the crux, and to the top.  There were “O-o-oh’s” and “A-a-ah’s,” and one fellow remarked, “He’s got my respect!”  That comment hung in my mind.  What a tempting morsel to feed my ego, but how empty that morsel would become, leaving me hungry for more!

The truth is respect so easily gained can become easily lost.  What those students saw really impressed them because I could do something they could not.  No matter that it was my umpteenth time…no thought that I’ve had ample training…with these advantages over the campers, it wasn’t a fair comparison.  However, in that moment my practiced ability was a monument of success to them.  I’ve noticed how common it is in the work we do at DM for people to admire and be impressed with an outward appearance projected through our skill as instructors or our training in outdoor pursuits, but when I consider the building blocks of success at DM, I’m more impressed by the quiet, behind-the-scenes work I notice the staff doing.

Our last core value is Constructed with our Staff.  1 Peter 2:5 says, “You yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”  We look for this is a quality in our staff, and it is an attitude we embrace.  A few years ago, I was interviewing a girl for summer internship and she said, “I don’t know much about the outdoors, but I love Jesus.”  Practical skills are easily taught to the mind, but a Christ-like character in the heart is born through the long journey with Jesus.  At DM, we value one’s relationship with Christ so much because at the end of the day, we want to communicate life in Christ to our participants more than a life of chasing the wind of self-glorifying adventures. 

I’ve been so personally blessed by working at a place constructed with godly staff.  Just the other day, Robert stayed later than everybody else to settle accounts for the day and write our paychecks in readiness for the morrow.  Last week, I saw Logan judiciously navigating ankle-deep sewage as he worked tirelessly and without complaint to unclog a drain for one of our RV campers.  Leah often schedules others for more of the exciting field work as she stays in the office to administrate the next program.  She has a habit of asking others what assignments they would appreciate.  Nearly every day, Ronnie can be found cleaning, mowing, or weed trimming so the camp will look good for the next guests.  We have been blessed over the years with many wonderful interns whose ready service springs from a vibrant relationship with Jesus. And I cannot forget Julie, whose long hours cooking good food in the kitchen provide a celebratory feel to day’s end after the adventures are through.  She always greets us with a smile. 

I’ve been wowed by many great athletes and outdoor professionals, but the staff at DM convicts me by their Christ-like conduct, teaches me by their attitudes, and ensures this ministry is built on something that will last longer than a few fleeting moments of passing fame. It’s what you don’t see that really matters most—living stones of God quietly, faithfully building His Kingdom.