adventure, the narrow road, & life abundant

"You call me out beyond the shore into the waves. 

No fear can hinder now the promises You made." 

My memory of this initial moment is so vivid I can still hear the echoing voices around me, I can see the people who are now some of my dearest friends, though hardly knew then, and recall the desperate plea of my own heart. During my final RA training at Liberty University, during the fall of 2014, this was the song to be sung and these are the very words that grabbed hold of the strings of my heart and pulled with all it's might. It might have been because it was my last year doing what I loved, where I loved, and doing it with the people I loved. It might have been because I was, at that time, circumstantially isolated in a whole lot of unknown details. It might have been that, while I was still geographically near my very best of friends, I was moving to a part of the campus that was more out of touch with the rest of campus (or, if you know where I'm talking about, the world #annexlife). Truthfully, I think it was a little bit of all of those things clashing together to send a wave of holy emotion and divine desperation into my weak and vulnerable heart. But, I think there was more to it. 

Fast forward nearly a full 365 days and I am sitting outside of a Starbucks in good ole' Knoxville, Tennessee only four days out from making the biggest move of my life yet (granted, I don't have a whole lot of life to weigh this with) to Houston, Texas. Cue this song and cue all the very same thoughts, emotions, feelings, and pleas that I found myself at the doorstep of last fall. The same as with the memory from RA training, there are many different tangible reasons as to why these simple lyrics would resonate so swiftly and deeply with the innermost part of me. However, this time was different because I had unknowingly discovered the root. 

The reason that the unknown causes an abrupt physiological response. 

The reason that people will forsake all for the sake of security. 

The reason that change causes our heart to beat substantially louder and faster than before. 

The reason that the best stories are filled with spontaneity, romance, adventure and risk. 

The reason that comfort is the upmost pursuit of (American) people.

The root is this: that is how God intended for us to live. Simple, right? 

Here is all I'm saying, what if adventure, intimacy, risk, unknown seasons, etc. are found along the narrow road? The road that leads to life abundant. The road where it's citizens are "foreign" and "strangers" to that which is the expected cycle of the visible world? What if the Scripture means literally what it says when we are given the direction to walk by faith and not by sight? Faith: "Complete trust or confidence in someone or something." 

See, I suspect (because, I am apart of it) that the culture we find ourselves in today is missing out on communion with Jesus and intimacy with the Father and abundant life (literal abundant life, not just some fantasy talked about amongst Christian circles that never expect to actually obtain this life) because we have fallen into the devil shaped trap of safety. My friends, is not safety but an illusion? 

David Platt says, brilliantly, as he writes the "forward" for John Piper,

"We, too, can retreat into a wilderness of wasted opportunity. We can rest content in casual, convenient, cozy, comfortable Christian lives as we cling to the safety and security this world offers. We can coast through a cultural landscape marked by materialism, characterized by consumerism, and engulfed in individualism. We can assent to the spirit of this age and choose to spend our lives seeking worldly pleasures, acquiring worldly possessions, and pursuing worldly ambitions—all under the banner of cultural Christianity. Or we can decide that Jesus is worth more than this." (Risk is Right)

What if God truly is after His glory through our abundant Joy. That is the promise. 

My fear is that we miss out on opportunities to risk our life for the sake of the Kingdom of God out of a deep rooted fear of our own safety. That is a tragedy. For if we could be guaranteed safety, than we no longer need to wait eagerly for the coming Kingdom, right? If we could be guaranteed safety, than would we not be the ones who have written out the chapters of our life being sure we keep the plot decently calm in order to reach the end of our days escaping all harm? It's a tragedy so easy to become victim to. 

My absolute favorite quote from the spectacular series, The Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis is found in the first book when it is said of Aslan, the King, "Of course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King." (The Lion, the Which, and the Wardrobe) Clinging to Jesus is not safe. The Narrow Road is not safe. But, He is good. Is that not sufficient?

So, whats the point? You've gotten off track with the beginning lyrics. Right - hear me now. 

"You call me out beyond the shore into the waves.

No fear can hinder now the promises You made." 

The root reason these lyrics so abruptly, yet subtly, captivated me last fall and more recently sitting outside of Starbucks is because God, the gracious and unbelievably passionate Father to us He is, has been trying to communicate something with me. He's telling me, "Nerissa, this is the brink of life abundant! This IS the Narrow Road! You're made for this." 

Last fall when these lyrics first came off of my mouth and most recently, the situation has been the same: I'm entering into an unknown season full of unknown people with unknown circumstances that are going to affect me and change me in many unknown ways. But, but, but, Jesus, serving as the only constant, is the same and all unknowns fade in this truth.

You guys, are you hearing me? This is the absolute best! The Father of all has invited us to participate in an epic adventure and story so far beyond what our eyes can see and our minds can comprehend. That is why we sing songs like this. That is why we sing songs (like, every day) that say, "Take me deeper than my feet will ever wonder." That is why grand adventures make us excited. That is why the possibility of experiencing the unknown future with a spouse makes us impatient. That is why, prior to a great season of change and unknown, these songs grapple with our heart. 

This is what we are made for. 

Could you imagine what the Churches would start to resemble if we began to take this call towards an epic adventure and life abundant seriously and as something to truly be experienced? I don't know - it might actually start to look like the Church in Acts where they would literally say, "Day by day," because they were risking it all, not knowing what the next day would hold. The Christian life is not that which is filled with academic knowledge of God's faithfulness and passion for us but a daily active walk along the Narrow Road.

What if I work a mundane job sitting in an office all day? 

What if I'm going to be single forever and never to experience that adventure? 

What if I don't want to move away from where I am? 

That's not the point - those questions reflect a story that is still about us. The point is that God has invited us to join HIS story that is so far beyond the present status of our lives. Therefore, it transcends our work environment and our relational status as we begin to be people of the unseen and the invisible joining our Father in a daily epic. 

I challenge you, and myself. 

It is frightening. The year after I plead those words at RA training was filled with the longest days, forced questions revealing the depths of my depravity, hurt, pain, loneliness, etc. It was hard. But, it was filled with the sweetest relationships I have ever known, experiencing Gods presence in ways I thought was inactive on earth, and, day by day, having my eyes unveiled to more of the Greater Story. As I look forward to this next season in Houston, speaking these words just as desperately as last Fall, I know what lies ahead will be difficult (and, HOT) but I know this is what I'm made for.  

I am made to jump. To risk. To dive. To go. I'm made to walk by faith. So are you. 

A dear friend who walked with me closely during this last year wrote to me when I was in my mere last days at Liberty saying something so simple, yet unbelievably profound: "God fully equipped you and was faithful during this last season, and He will do the same in the next." That is absolutely true. May our fear of the unknown and fear of risk be subsided at the recalling of His faithfulness during generations past and the present belief in Him. He's never failed and He won't now. 

Join me in praying? Join me in repenting over our debilitating fear. Join me in praying for our feet to walk away from the shores and into the waves day by day by day by day. Join me in praying that we become people who are captivated by the unseen in the midst of the seen. If there is anything I have learned, it begins on our knees. This isn't a "buckle up the boot straps and get up!" kind of a call. This is a call requiring us to  get on the ground and plead with Jesus as they did in the Scripture, "I believe! Help my unbelief!"

Don't hear me wrong. I'm not glorifying adventure over Jesus. What I am saying, is that the only life Jesus wholly offers and provides is life that is filled with adventure. It's an epic story. Let us be in tune with the Story. For, it is our Love story after all. 

To God be the glory and until Kingdom come. 

A couple different books I've read recently have awakened me even more to these realities that I 120% recommend: The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis & John Eldredge and Waking the Dead: the Glory of a Heart Fully Alive by John Eldredge, also. Read them!