When My Dad Said Yes
Before I tell any of these stories, I probably need to tell you where it all started.
I grew up in the 60s and 70s—one of four kids, three boys and a sister. My dad was the kind of man who didn’t just talk about following God… he actually did it. I remember one night he told my mom he felt led to go back to seminary. Within a few weeks, we had packed up everything, with about $50 to our name, and moved to the Wake Forest area in North Carolina.
That’s where I remember adventure really beginning.
We lived out in a rural area, surrounded by tobacco farms. As a kid, I was out in the fields—picking tobacco, hanging it in barns, doing work most boys today wouldn’t even recognize. But that wasn’t the adventure… that was just life.
Adventure was everything else.
It was frozen ponds that cracked under our feet while my dad pulled us to safety.
It was backpacking trips as a young boy with older men from church.
It was summers that never seemed to end—riding bikes, building dams in creeks, fishing, climbing, exploring woods we weren’t supposed to be in.
We didn’t call it “adventure” back then.
We were just outside… all the time.
We built zip lines before anyone thought to sell them.
We climbed waterfalls that could have killed us.
We drove back roads through places like South Mountains State Park with nothing but rope and shovels in case we got stuck.
We learned how to stretch a tank of gas when there wasn’t much to be found.
Looking back, I realize something now I didn’t understand then:
My dad gave us permission to live that way.
He said yes.
He encouraged it.
Sometimes he even came with us.
And that shaped more than just how I lived—it shaped how I learned to walk with God.
Because over time, I began to see that the same instincts that led me into the woods…
were the ones God would use to lead me into a life of faith.
So these stories aren’t just about the outdoors.
They’re about risk.
About saying yes.
About the places where life gets real—and where, more often than not, God is already waiting.
I hope they entertain you.
But more than that, I hope they stir something in you…
to step out, to take a risk, and maybe live a little more adventurously with God.
When My Dad Said Yes
Before I tell any of these stories, I probably need to tell you where it all started.
I grew up in the 60s and 70s—one of four kids, three boys and a sister. My dad was the kind of man who didn’t just talk about following God… he actually did it. I remember one night he told my mom he felt led to go back to seminary. Within a few weeks, we had packed up everything, with about $50 to our name, and moved to the Wake Forest area in North Carolina.
That’s where I remember adventure really beginning.
We lived out in a rural area, surrounded by tobacco farms. As a kid, I was out in the fields—picking tobacco, hanging it in barns, doing work most boys today wouldn’t even recognize. But that wasn’t the adventure… that was just life.
Adventure was everything else.
It was frozen ponds that cracked under our feet while my dad pulled us to safety.
It was backpacking trips as a young boy with older men from church.
It was summers that never seemed to end—riding bikes, building dams in creeks, fishing, climbing, exploring woods we weren’t supposed to be in.
We didn’t call it “adventure” back then.
We were just outside… all the time.
We built zip lines before anyone thought to sell them.
We climbed waterfalls that could have killed us.
We drove back roads through places like South Mountains State Park with nothing but rope and shovels in case we got stuck.
We learned how to stretch a tank of gas when there wasn’t much to be found.
Looking back, I realize something now I didn’t understand then:
My dad gave us permission to live that way.
He said yes.
He encouraged it.
Sometimes he even came with us.
And that shaped more than just how I lived—it shaped how I learned to walk with God.
Because over time, I began to see that the same instincts that led me into the woods…
were the ones God would use to lead me into a life of faith.
So these stories aren’t just about the outdoors.
They’re about risk.
About saying yes.
About the places where life gets real—and where, more often than not, God is already waiting.
I hope they entertain you.
But more than that, I hope they stir something in you…
to step out, to take a risk, and maybe live a little more adventurously with God.