Learning to Swim

:: So, I’ve been in Germany for about 3 months. Between balancing train schedules and studio time with emails and skype dates, life is falling into a sense of normalcy only to be changed again when we leave for Outreach.

:: It is strange to settle into this life knowing that transition is the only constant in my future. Yes, this means what you think it means. I am being called into full-time “missions.” What does that mean?  I have no idea but I know that it will continue to look differently from everything I imagined yet at the same time line up with everything I've ever wanted. God is kinda crazy like that. He takes you places you never knew you wanted but first you have to let go of what you think you know and want. Sounds pretty simple but it becomes a bit more complicated when that somewhere could literally mean the opposite side of the world with virtually no money to your name. But if He can control the ocean tide and the seasons I’m pretty sure He can handle a little thing I call my life. As crazy as I may sound, it has been an incredible journey.

:: Deeper. That’s the word that sums it all up. It’s more than just growth. I have a strong foundation but what does it mean to really go deeper…to let myself get swept up by the ocean waves instead of trying to fight them? Shauna Niequist describes this season of life perfectly [I changed a few details to match my own life].

:: I learned about waves when I was little, swimming at the Inlet in New Smyrna Beach, in gray blue water under a clear sky, and the most important thing I learned was this:  if you try to stand and face the wave, it will smash you to bits, but if you trust the water, and let it carry you, there’s nothing sweeter.  And a couple decades later, that’s what I’m learning to be true about life, too.  If you dig in and fight the change you’re facing, it will indeed smash you to bits. It will hold you under, drag you across the rough sand, scare and confuse you. 

:: This last season in my life has been characterized, more than anything else, by change. Hard, swirling, one-after-another changes, so many that I can’t quite regain my footing before the next one comes, very much like being tumbled by waves. 

:: During that season, there were moments when I lost touch with the heart of God’s story, the part where life always comes from death.  I love the life part, and I always try to skip over that pesky death part.  You can’t do that, as much as I’ve tried.

:: I believe that God is making all things new.  I believe that Christ overcame death and that that pattern is apparent all through life and history: life from death, water from a stone, redemption from failure, connection from alienation.  I believe that suffering is a part of the narrative, and that nothing really good gets built when everything’s easy.  I believe that loss and emptiness and confusion often give way to new fullness and wisdom.  But in that difficult season, I failed to believe in the big, beautiful story of who God is and what He is doing in this world. 

:: If I’m honest, I prayed [and still catch myself sometimes] the way you order breakfast from a short order cook: this is what I want.  Period.  This is what I want.  Aren’t you getting this?  I didn’t pray for God’s will to be done in my life, or, at any rate, I didn’t mean it.  I prayed to be rescued, not redeemed.  I prayed for it to get easier, not that I would be shaped in significant ways.  I prayed for the waiting to be over, instead of trying to learn something about patience or anything else for that matter. 

:: What I know now, though, is that change is one of God’s greatest gifts, and most useful tools.  I’ve learned that change can push us, pull us, rebuke and remake us.  It can show us who we’ve become, in the worst ways, and also in the best ways.  I’ve learned that in many cases, change is not a function not life’s cruelty but instead a function of God’s graciousness. 

:: If you dig in and fight the changes, they will smash you to bits.  They’ll hold you under, drag you across the rough sand, scare and confuse you.  But if you can find it within yourself, in the wildest of seasons, just for a moment, to trust in the goodness of God, who made it all and holds it all together, you’ll find yourself drawn along to a whole new place, and there’s truly nothing sweeter.  Unclench your fists, unlock your knees and also the door to your heart, take a deep breath, and let God do his work in you.

:: This is what is happening and it couldn’t be better. Frustrating at times but so rewarding. Change is good. Embrace is good. I’m learning to trust the water and let it sweep me away to the depths I‘ve never experienced.