It’s funny how songs become part of seasonal soundtracks without our even realizing it.
This song, as well as its entire album, became the continuous loop playing in my room around this time last year. I had a regimen: wake up, make breakfast, eat, open Spotify, get ready for the day. I had a research fellowship on my university’s campus, so on many mornings I would be pinning my hair up and putting on slacks to the sound of this song.
There is something particular about it. This song stirs more than emotion. It’s an anthem that calls out our appetite for more than apathy, for the deep and the beautiful and the radical and the holy. It asks one question. Do I dare to trust You beyond what I know?
I leave for Guatemala tomorrow.
My ticket was confirmed about 2 weeks ago. Purchasing a one-way ticket to a country that you have not yet even visited is a much more emotional experience then you might expect. It involved a lot of blank staring and pacing. I will confess that this whole process has been as un-Pinterest as they come. Instagram and Pinterest do a great job at idealizing the beauties of travel and wandering, but they’re not telling you the whole story. I forgot how much I like constant access to a full closet. To a dresser. How much I enjoy the independence that comes with driving my own car. In my own country.
But the sojourn is about sacrifice. It is not for the faint of heart, let me tell you.
For the last 2 months I have asked myself at least once a day if I know what I’m doing. I have wrestled with doubt and fear and insecurity and the unknown. And yesterday, this little song pops up again. I stop what I’m doing.
There is something much more tangible for me about borderless trust and wandering feet these days.
I look at this next chapter of my life and it’s lots of unknowns. Lots of trust falls. But there is something steady inside of me, an anchor in the middle of emotional chaos, that reminds me that this is the right thing. It’s the risky thing, but it’s the right thing.
I could spend my whole life doing the “right things” (i.e. meeting all the social expectations) and still miss God. Do we realize that? We could sit in the middle of a church building every time it’s open and still miss Him. At what cost are we choosing the comfortable? I cannot tell you how deeply this moves me.
Life looks different for everyone, of course. Opportunities come in seasons. How dull I should think the world would be if we all lived the same exact life. It is my hope that whatever our lives, whatever our opportunities, we would live in the borderless trust of His faithfulness and the simple rest of His love. Do not be afraid to let Him take you deeper. Keep your hands open. He wants to show you more of His heart.
I myself am a little ragamuffin being drawn by her Great Love to a beautiful story of deeper depths and higher heights. And I am excited and I am nervous and a little scared. But expectant and hopeful and open, all at once.
Here’s to the journey. I’ll let you know when I land.