Climbing Rocks and Crushing Doubt at 41

“You will go out in joy and be led forth in pace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12

Forty-one.

I’m an athlete—have been most of my life. But I fight chronic fatigue, depression, anxiety, and now the newest companion: perimenopause. Yep, I’ve arrived.

And taking a group of high school state soccer champions to camp? Let’s just say the enemy had plenty of opportunities to fire arrows of doubt and discouragement my way. I had been working hard on building endurance, but in late April I hyperextended my knee—walking on the beach. Seriously, sand?

If this is 41, I’m not sure I’m ready.

Thirteen days before we left for camp, I got hit with a nasty cold, topped off with crushing fatigue. I was nervous. Terrified, honestly—not just of letting my girls down, but of not having what it would take to get through the week. Selfishly, I needed to see God show up. I wanted time with Him on this wild adventure.

What if I can’t keep up?
What if my body gives out?
What if the fatigue flares up and I can’t push through it?
Am I turning into Grandma Ferg?!

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The Climb

One of the camp activities was rock climbing—a straight-up 90-foot wall with one long jagged crack. I watched one of my girls stare down the crux of the climb, knees trembling as she tried to piece together her next move.

She was facing the hardest part, and it was winning.

As I studied the route, I started calculating. This climb looked brutal. Maybe it would beat me too. I’d never climbed something like this.

I whispered, “God, you’ve got this, right?”
Half of me was hyped—the other half ready to run.

The guide clipped me in:
Click! Click! Pull! Pull!

“Belay?”
“Belay on!”

“Rock?”
“Rock on.”

I took a breath and placed my hands on the rock. Jagged. Sharp. But as I looked up, I saw the path. My shoes moved swiftly, my legs steady. My fingers found their grip. One by one. Tiny holes for my fingertips. My shoes bracing against the rock, adrenaline kicking in.

Then—the crux.
The spot where I’d seen others freeze.

My body burned. Muscles strained. But I found a hole for my foot and a ledge for one finger. I pushed with everything I had.

I could picture Jesus beside me, decked out in climbing gear, hollering like the proudest coach in the valley. We were doing this together.

The rest of the climb? Easier. Not painless, but the pressure was off. I finished it—we finished it—me and Jesus, all the way to the top.

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The Surprise

When I came off the wall, the guides congratulated me. I thanked them, not thinking much of it—until one said something I couldn’t quite hear.

“Can you repeat that?”

“You broke the record for that climb.”

I laughed. Sure, I did.

“No, seriously. Our current record is just over six minutes. You just did it in under five.”

I checked the video timestamps later. The final time?

4:01.

Take out the zero… and it’s 41.

At 41 years old, I’ve been doubting my ability to human. I’ve felt less-than. Out of control. Unable to do what I did at 17. I’m starting to come to terms with that reality. But in that moment—on that rock—God whispered:

“You can keep up.
You still have it.
And I’m going to show you that I can do more with you now than you ever thought possible.”

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The Reminder

I don’t know where you are in your walk with Jesus or in your journey on this earth. But I do know this: we have a God who loves to show up, who loves to laugh with us, and who absolutely cares about our fears, doubts, and tired bones.

He gives strength to the weary. And He loves surprising us with joy in places we least expect it.

That week was one of the best of my life—adventuring with my soccer girls, watching them grow, and meeting Jesus in raw, real, unforgettable ways.

So, if you’re staring down your own climb, wondering if you have what it takes—remember: you don’t have to do it alone.

Rock on!