The last year and a half has been anything but safe and comfortable, and oh how I’ve wished it would be!Our season of transition began on June 6th, 2017 when we literally lost everything that we had been building towards. We went from finally feeling set up and established, to packing up everything and moving our belongings into a storage unit. Since then, our life hasn’t really fit the quota for ‘normal’. In fact, there have been some days where the plan for the next few months has changed several times, only to conclude in the original, ‘I don’t know’ summary. For the most part I’m pretty okay with leading a life that not many people understand, it was kind of how I was raised, but there have definitely been days where all I’ve wanted was to be ‘normal’. To have the security of our own home and for our pregnancies to have gone full term, to have a regular job with regular hours and a regular paycheck, to be able to say, ‘this is where I’m settled, have built my home and will one day pass it on to the next generation.’ In essence, ‘this is how I’m comfortable.’In one of mine and Phillip’s many conversations about this season, he said, “Babe, I think our Western desire for comfort is being challenged.”There’s nothing wrong in wanting to provide a home and security, to plan for the future and desire to steward your finances and possessions well, to hope and dream for your family to grow and thrive, but have we somehow rewritten the definition of comfort and called it wisdom? Do we actually give people room to walk out the faith they profess, or do we try and stunt it with our own fear? I was recently reading a book by Tim Keller called Center Church and something he said stood out to me:
“Jesus did not live where he was comfortable, he went where he was useful.”
- Tim Keller
How often do we want to live where it’s comfortable though? I know I do. That’s ‘the good life,’ the American dream, the Instagram perfect set-up that we are constantly encouraged to pursue. That is the Western definition of success. As much as I would love to be comfortable, I desire more to be useful, to be present for the needy and to be able to give my yes when I hear the word, ‘go!’ I would much rather not have a home and be living life 100% in faith, than have it all and not need to put my faith in anything.I wouldn’t say that we’ve conquered this by any means. If circumstances outside of our control hadn’t played their hand and forced us into a corner, we may not have voluntarily given it all up. But having found ourselves here, there is so much we’ve learnt and freedom we’ve gained.
‘…I’m not telling you this because I’m in need, for I have learned to be satisfied in any circumstance. I know what it means to lack, and I know what it means to experience overwhelming abundance. For I’m trained in the secret of overcoming all things, whether in fullness or in hunger.’
There is nothing wrong in having the house and garden, the 9-5 job, the kids and routines, promotions and bonuses. All of those things are gifts - well-earned and a huge blessing. But would we still thrive without them all? Would our faith remain unshakeable, or would we find ourselves denying the God we love to profess when we have it all? Are we willing to move beyond lists, goals and ten-year plans and step into the unknown of faith?In the words of Swithfoot:
‘I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move!
