When the Ground Disappears Beneath You

In Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, there is a scene that every pastor should keep in their back pocket. Indiana Jones stands at the edge of a bottomless chasm. His father is dying from a gunshot wound. The only hope is the Holy Grail, and it waits on the other side of that impossible gap. His father's journal offers just three words: "a leap of faith."

Indy looks down. There is nothing — no bridge, no rope, no visible way across. Every rational instinct screams to step back. But with his father's life draining away, he closes his eyes, lifts one trembling foot, and steps out into empty air.

His boot lands on solid stone. A bridge had been there the whole time, carved and painted to blend perfectly with the canyon walls. Invisible, yet real. Solid, yet hidden from sight.

Hebrews 11:1 tells us that faith is "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Notice that word — substance. Not wishful thinking. Not blind optimism. Substance. The bridge was real before Indiana Jones stepped onto it. His step did not create the bridge. His step revealed it.

That is how faith works with the Almighty. God's provision is already in place before we take the step. Our courage does not build the bridge — it simply discovers what He has already laid beneath our feet.

The question is never whether the bridge is there. The question is whether we will step.