Finding God on the Wall: How Climbing Helped Me Heal

I didn’t start climbing for the thrill or the views.

I started because I was stuck.

Life had collapsed in on itself. I was going to therapy with a marriage that was falling apart. I was separated from my wife and children. I had no real community to lean on. The days felt heavy, and the future felt foggy. I wasn’t just emotionally drained—I was spiritually and mentally lost.

That’s when I found climbing.

Not as a hobby, but as a lifeline.

Climbing gave me direction—not answers, not escape, but movement. It became a microcosm of life. A place to practice the very things I was learning in therapy: working through fear, facing challenges, problem-solving, and learning how to stop overthinking.

It became a sacred space of healing.

The Wall as a Practice Ground

On the wall, you can’t fake it. You can’t skip the hard parts. You can’t control every outcome. You just show up and try. And some days, that’s enough.

For me, the wall became a place to try again—again and again. To take one step, one hold, one breath at a time. To confront my fear of failure, my urge to control, and my tendency to get stuck in analysis instead of action.

Just like therapy, climbing asked me to be honest. Not to perform. Not to pretend. Just to be present.

Faith, Mental Health, and Movement

Climbing didn’t solve my problems. But it helped me engage with them in a new way. As a Christian, I was trying to reconcile my faith with the reality of my mental health struggles. I thought maybe I was broken—or lacked faith—because I couldn’t just pray it all away.

But climbing reminded me: healing is a process. Growth is slow. And God doesn’t just meet us in church pews—He meets us in the chalk dust and silence between moves.

There’s a strange clarity that comes when you’re 40 feet off the ground and clinging to a tiny edge: You learn to breathe. You learn to trust. You learn to fall and still believe you’re held.

Climbing with Others, Climbing with Christ

In time, I discovered Climbers for Christ, a community of believers who understand what it means to pursue both faith and the vertical life. Their mission to “connect climbers to Christ and one another” resonated deeply with me. It reminded me that I wasn't the only one finding God in movement, in struggle, and in stillness on the wall.

Whether you're new to climbing or have been doing it for years, their community is a beautiful reminder that faith doesn't always look like church pews—it can look like ropes, routes, and real connection.

What’s Your Practice Ground?

You don’t have to climb to encounter God like this. But I believe everyone needs a “practice ground”—some place where body, mind, and spirit can come together.

Where do you wrestle with your fear in real-time?

Where do you give yourself permission to struggle and grow?

Where do you move forward even when the path isn’t clear?

For me, it’s the wall. For you, it might be the trail, the yoga mat, the journal, or the prayer closet.

Find your place. God is already there.

From Crux to Christ

There’s a climbing term—the crux—that refers to the hardest part of a route. The make-or-break moment.

I’ve had plenty of cruxes in life. I’m still working through some. But here’s what climbing—and Christ—are teaching me:

You don’t have to do it perfectly. You don’t have to do it alone. You just have to keep showing up.

So whether you’re in a fall season, a fear season, or a foggy one like I was—know this:

Grace will hold you. Growth will come. And God never stops climbing with you.