My son, Scott, and I recently returned from another father-son camp, where the adventures include a 50-foot rock-climbing wall. The wall features three climbing lanes that offer varying degrees of difficulty. Every year I attempt the middle, most difficult lane, and fail. Until this year.

At 40 feet, I hit a point that seemed to offer no path to continue climbing. I rested for a few moments and tried to think of any hand or footing changes that might help. Seeing no options, I decided that I would simply let go and repel down. Another try, another miss. "Descend," I called to my son, who stood on the ground below working the belay equipment that ensured my safety. And that's when everything changed.

"Keep going, Dad" he replied, "I know you can make it!"

How I wanted those words to be true so that my son could see me succeed. But I didn't see any way to keep climbing.

"You're so close, don't stop now," he continued. "I think the rock just above your right foot is the one you need."

Because ...