Photo and Commentary ©2026 by Darren Milam
Wednesday, July 15, 2026
Earlier this week, I had the privilege of taking a hot-air balloon flight. If you’ve never experienced it, let me tell you, it’s not an exact science.
To put it into perspective, before we ever left the ground, the pilot filled several small helium balloons, similar to party balloons, and released them into the sky to study the wind currents. In total, we launched six balloons from three different locations, carefully watching them climb higher and drift across the horizon. Once the pilot was satisfied with what he saw, he gave the signal to inflate the “big one” and invited us to climb aboard.
From our launch site, we spent about 40 minutes in the air. We landed roughly 100 meters from our intended target and about four miles from where we had taken off. At our fastest, we traveled about six miles per hour. More than once, it felt as though we were simply suspended in place, hovering quietly above the world below.
The experience was magical.
There was no rush of adrenaline, no sense of danger or excitement. Instead, it was peaceful. Calm. Almost surreal.
For those who don’t care for heights, I understand the hesitation. I’m not exactly fond of heights myself, although I’ve never let that stop me from climbing mountains or jumping off things now and then. Even so, I expected this flight to feel more thrilling. What I discovered was the exact opposite.
Looking out across more than 80 miles of landscape was breathtaking. From our vantage point above Snohomish, Washington, we could see Everett, Bellevue, Seattle, Mount Baker, Mount Rainier, and everything in between. The familiar suddenly appeared different.
Perspective has a way of doing that.
As I reflected on the title of this entry, Onward and Upward, I couldn’t help but think about how much of life is spent navigating change. There are adjustments to make, decisions to consider, and challenges to overcome. At times, the view from the ground can feel overwhelming.
The good news is that we were never meant to navigate it alone.
We have a loving Father who walks beside us every step of the way. When we invite Him into the process, He provides something we often cannot find on our own: perspective. His view is higher than ours. His direction is clearer. His presence brings peace even when the path ahead seems uncertain.
As we floated above Snohomish, I trusted the pilot’s experience and guidance. He understood the winds, the currents, and the destination better than I ever could. My role was simply to climb aboard and trust the journey.
In much the same way, our true Pilot invites us to trust Him. He sees what we cannot see and knows where He is leading us. When we choose to follow His direction, we find the confidence to keep moving forward, knowing that He is in control.
And with Him right alongside , we can continue moving onward and upward.