The Leap That Lights Our Way: On Faith, Fatherhood, and Letting Go
“Faith is a marvel,” Søren Kierkegaard wrote, “not something to be figured out.” How true that rings as I reflect on the paradoxes of parenthood. Most days, I cling tightly to the illusion of control, striving to plan and plot my children’s path. Yet life, like faith, follows its own wild course.
As a father and an anxious soul, I constantly wrestle with the urge to grasp and guard. I want to shelter my children from all harm, naively hoping to shape their world single-handedly. But the more I try to grasp life’s intangibles, the more they slip away. Control is a mirage in the desert of existence.
Like trying to hold sand in your hand, the tighter you grasp at controlling life, the more it slips away. Children grow up and choose their own path no matter how hard we try to shape it. Rather than desperately grasping, it’s better to open your hand and let life unfold, being present and appreciative of each moment as it comes. Control is an illusion. We can only guide, not determine, the course.
Kierkegaard knew this well, stating faith is not grounded in reason or logic. It is a leap into the unknown and unknowable, much like when I send my children off to school each morning, full of worries yet hoping for the best. I can’t control their days; I can only embrace faith.
Faith is said to move mountains, but the smaller, more subtle leaps often shape our lives. The leap to forgive when logic screams condemn. The leap to love without a guaranteed return. The leap to hope when optimism seems foolish.
I take these mini-leaps each time I release my white-knuckled grip on the handlebars of life, letting my children wobble off on their bikes or cheer them on as they dare a plunge down the waterslide. These are leaps of faith, small yet significant. While these day-to-day leaps hold their own weight, there are moments when the stakes are much higher, demanding an even greater act of faith.
Perhaps the most daunting leap was when my daughter, Becca, was born prematurely. Night after night, I handed my fragile newborn to the skilled nurses. I trusted their expertise, yet couldn’t shake the heavy feeling of my own limitations. Despite my apprehensions, I sought solace in the long hours I spent beside her incubator in the NICU. It was the only form of comfort and control I could offer — my unwavering presence. That was an act of faith, too: a belief that she was in capable hands while I did my humble part.
Fast forward a few years, and Becca is now our family’s budding gymnast — brave, fearless, and making her own leaps from couch to floor with gravity-defying dares. Then there’s my son, Sean. Unlike his sister, he’s always been somewhat unsteady in the realm of physical activities. Standing at We Rock the Spectrum indoor playground, my dad's instinct kicked in full throttle. I watched as Sean clumsily strapped himself onto the Zipline, battling the urge to intervene and shield him from potential embarrassment or failure. But as he took off — awkwardly, yes, but with a determination and joy I’d never seen — I felt my internal grip loosen. My son, teetering on the edge of childhood and growth, embodied the purest form of Kierkegaard’s leap of faith.
Such is the paradox of parenthood. I want to cling tightly, yet I must learn to let go. If I hover too close, I hinder their growth. But if I drift too far, I cannot catch them if they fall. I walk the tightrope, adjusting my balance daily.
Kierkegaard was right — faith provides no firm foothold. It is a blind jump, a trust fall into the open arms of a loving universe. I will stumble and sway as I continue on this crooked path called life. Still, something deep inside whispers it will be alright. Despite the lack of logic or control, I must leap with faith.
When I release my death grip on life, it’s like letting go of a handful of sand — though the grains may slip through my fingers, what remains is a feeling of peace and the freedom to catch what truly matters: the smiles of my children, the wisdom that comes with surrender, and the realization that I’m right where I need to be.
As we navigate life’s winding path, we may find the courage to leap with faith when the future seems uncertain. I invite you to reflect on times you felt compelled to take a ‘leap of faith’ despite fear or doubt. How did it feel? Where did it lead you? Share your stories of daring greatly in the comments below. Let us inspire each other to release our grip on control and open our hands to catch life’s surprising gifts. Though the landing is never guaranteed, with arms wide open, we just may find flight.