we ran out of lake, and we cleared the
tops of the trees as we sailed out of
the canyon. Adam let out a big yelp,
and I was woohoo-ing. I was going to
give him a chest bump but figured
we’d crash, so I didn’t. The lake was
disappearing behind us as we flew back
toward the Lodge, all grins. I bet Adam
was working on the story we would tell
everybody when we got there.
I turned to Adam again and said, “Okay,
turn the plane around and let’s see if
you can land us back in the lake.” Adam
started shaking his head again so hard
I thought it might fall off. We had a
good enough story, right? Then I saw
him mentally switch, and he started to
turn the plane. When Adam entered the
canyon, I didn’t say anything. When he
started descending into the canyon, I
didn’t say anything.
When he made his turn at the wide
spot at the end of the lake, he nailed it.
I didn’t say anything. As we made the
final descent toward the lake, Adam
threw the yoke forward. We were still
fifty feet off the water when he flew
past where I had landed previously. I
didn’t say anything. Adam landed the
plane like a boss, and we came to a
stop. Adam had flown into that canyon
as an eighteen-year-old, But when the
Beaver touched down on the water he
looked thirty-five. I looked like I was a
hundred and twenty.
The whole time all of this was
happening, I was thinking this:
Land. The. Plane.
God isn’t always leading us to the
safest route forward but to the one
where we’ll grow the most. I knew
Adam well enough to know he could
land the plane. I’d seen him do it a
hundred times in more open waters.
I had already told him everything I
knew about it. He didn’t need any more
instructions; he just needed to see I
believed in him enough to let him do it.
He didn’t need more words or to know
what they meant in Greek or Hebrew.
He just needed an opportunity.
The people who have shaped my faith
the most did the same for me. They
didn’t try to teach me anything; they
let me know they trusted me. And
that taught me everything. Those
moments are forever etched into who
I am. I think God does the same with
us. I’ve heard a lot of people say they
wish they could hear from God about
this or that. Maybe they mean they
want to hear His audible voice. I’m
not sure. I don’t think literally hearing
something is what most of us are
after. What we actually want is that
extra nudge of confidence from God
and the opportunity to move forward
courageously to do those things we
already know how to do. What a shame
it would be if we were waiting for God to
say something while He’s been waiting
on us to do something. He speaks to
me the loudest on the way. Simply put,
if we want more faith, we need to do
more stuff.
Part of me really understands people’s
hesitation. There have been times
when I wanted to hear God’s voice—
Solutions • 65