April 17, 2013
I'm sitting up above the ocean. Doors locked, windows sealed tight, the sound of its rolling waves still reaches my ears clearly. I used to go down to the ocean. I used to walk in and feel cold silk as it murmured against my legs. Why am I up here?I see the place I have often gone - in storms, in the sunshine, at sunset, early on Christmas morning. Part of me longs to be there, to surrender. But I am stubborn and self-centered and I hold myself back. I don't want to get my feet wet. I don't want to be cold. I don't want to get in trouble for tracking sand into the house. That's it. Before Africa, when I came back, I chose to surrender as fully as I knew how. When did I change? Why? It seems I care more about my own comfort and others' opinions than my Reason for living. That simply should not be.
A train rumbles by between my locked doors and the ocean. It shakes the ground, making a mighty noise and blowing its whistle. But you know what? If I listen closely, I can still faintly hear the rolling waves. I can see them. They still call my name. A train and the ocean get in a fight. Who wins? Yes, that's right. The ocean. Even though the train looks unsurpassable in power, the ocean would swallow it whole and it would rust in the depths. No matter how hard it pounds the waters, it can't hurt the ocean. The train obscures my view of the ocean, but it's right there. Always. The ocean is a constant reality. It moves, but it doesn't move. It will always be right here, until this earth passes away.
So what does one do when she realizes she is holding herself back like a child keeping a lollipop out of her brother's reach? She gets down on her face and thanks her Father for His grace and asks that He would change her heart and give her the will and the courage to let go. Let go. Death grip relaxed. Hands open. Let it go. He knows how to care for your fragile heart. He is more than enough. He whispers love to my soul.
The existence, character, and importance of the ocean becomes harder and harder to deny or distort. Over time not only does the sound of the waves pass through these walls, but the smell of the salty air slowly seeps in. The air within the walls cools to match that which lies outside. It is impossible to remain unchanged in His presence.
I drove home and, on a whim, decided to check the mailbox although I was certain someone would have picked the mail up much earlier. I was waiting for a letter. A letter to affirm my path and cement my plans. No one had picked the mail up, it was still there. I picked up the stack and casually flipped through it. There it was, right in the middle. Moody Bible Institute. Emily Hall. I hadn't really expected it to be there. I thought I would have to wait until I got home from my weekend choir trip. Down the driveway, into the garage. The moment of truth. I was fully aware that I might not have been admitted. Happy, but nervous, I opened it. As I read, the first thing I noticed was that the letter didn't begin the way acceptance letters usually do, with a big "Congratulations! Welcome to _____! You're a _____! We can't wait to see you on campus!" Nope. None of that. But it didn't sound like a rejection letter, either. There it was. The black ink congratulated me on my acceptance to Moody. But... there was no more space in Chicago. I could either go to the Spokane campus or do 1+3 FYOP (First Year Online Program). If I went to Spokane, I could reapply to Chicago after my first year. With 1+3 FYOP, I would complete my first year online and then I would be guaranteed transfer to Chicago for the next three years.
The world stopped. I wasn't crushed, but I didn't understand what had just happened. I expected something nice and neat. Acceptance or rejection. Yes or no. Clean, easy, final. Apparently, that wasn't the plan.
"I'm not going to Chicago." Disappointment started to creep in. And then I laughed. Oh Lord. You never cease to amaze me. No conversation with You is random or irrelevant or inapplicable. "Surrender. Do you believe I am who I say I am? Do you believe I love you? Do you believe I have a plan and that I have led you here?" He's asking me if I will trust Him even when His plan isn't exactly what I expected, not exactly what I wanted. "I have not changed. My plan for you has not changed. I just want to lead you on a bit of a different route. I know you didn't expect this, but I knew all along. Will you trust me, little one?"
In Africa, my sisters and I often spoke of dangerous prayers - praying for things like patience and faith and boldness. These prayers are "dangerous" because He answers by giving us opportunities to be patient, to exercise faith, to step out boldly. These situations are not easy or even necessarily safe by the world's standards sometimes. That is why we pray for these things - to be able to glorify God in the hard places. Dangerous prayers are so good. We grow, we cut down fear, we see lives change because God gave us opportunities, the desire, and the strength to choose the hard options, practicing what we prayed for. On April 17th, up above the ocean, I prayed for the courage to let go, to surrender. Not ten minutes later, He placed an opportunity right in my lap. Literally. Oh Daddy.
I am not disappointed. I am not crushed. My world has not been turned upside down. My idea of what my life should be has not been ripped to shreds. This is not what I expected but... you know what? I'm okay with that. I am glad I have this opportunity to say "I trust You", to surrender, to be obedient, to do these things and not just say them. To demonstrate that I mean what I say.
I see my life up to this point, a jumble, a mess, and so many things make sense. I see struggle and faith and fear and lessons learned and Africa and Mexico and conversations and tears and plans, and they have all collided and fallen into line, everything orchestrated by the Most High God, the One who sees me. Last year, I wasn't ready for wherever I am going, but last year prepared me for this year and I am more ready than I was before. If we wait until we feel qualified and ready, we'll never get anywhere or do anything. If we choose to follow Him and take the first step in faith, He is faithful to lead us and prepare us on the way.
I have chosen to be a part of 1+3 FYOP. I see so many good things I believe He has in store for this year. I have so many things to experience, many more lessons to learn, and He knows this is the best way. Lead me where You will, Lord. This is not my story. It's Yours.
This is the year for trust and surrender and belief. This is the year to rise up, Faithfull. For you know He who called is faithful and He will finish it.
