Imagine waking up after a restless night in what sounds like a war zone instead of a neighborhood on a beautiful tropical island.  With daylight the continual hunger returns, but today if your mother can afford it, breakfast from the corner shop will be ONE slice of bread, and ONE sausage from a can of Vienna Sausages…that’s right, ONE.

My recent vacation home to Jamaica was just fabulous; reconnecting with some of the people I love most in this world, celebrating the 45^th anniversary of Swallowfield Chapel, the church where I grew up, watching my old high school’s soccer team beat forever rivals, and eating Jamaican food exclusively for two weeks!  Jerk pork, yellow yam, curried goat, mackerel run-down, hard dough bread, spiced bun, coconut drops… yum!

What was unexpected was the opportunity to come face to face with a reality that reminded me of the poverty that marked my early years growing up in “tenement yards’ in the inner city.  One glaring difference however is the frightening amount of violence, in addition to perpetual poverty, that now marks the life of the children forced to become tough, hardened, and desensitized just to survive being raised in these communities.  This has left me wrestling with the questions,

“What exactly is the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ for these children, and who will tell them?”

“The Spirit of the LORD is upon Me because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor…” Luke 4:18

“…As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.” John 20:21

Every Friday night approximately 120 boys from the Swallowfield neighborhood show up for Boys’ Club, lured by ‘scrimmage’ soccer games and a meal.  In between there are Bible lessons, question and answer sessions, or prayer depending on their ages and immediate needs.  At the end of the evening they walk back up the road into the hell on earth that is their daily life.

One of my “friend who sticks closer than a brother” is Dr. John Royes, one of the Caribbean’s leading pediatricians, and a dedicated follower of Jesus Christ. He and his small but faithful group of mentors have been working for years to establish authentic, credible relationships with these boys to earn the right to speak into their lives.  More often than not he feeds them out of his own pocket and works with the team to place, and keep them in schools, skills training centers, and jobs.

Now the mission, (and we chose to accept it), is a 2016 residential summer camp for 120 boys, their mentors, and a team of surrogate mentors from this country, willing to come alongside and share the ONE message of the gospel that could change their lives forever…HOPE.

JUST ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS SENDS ONE BOY TO CAMP FOR ONE WEEK!

So, next month I will write my $300 check payable to Swallowfield Chapel to sponsor three boys.  The love of Christ, and my love for Christ compels me.

Hands down, best vacation ever!  …just living the thing.

If you would like to be a sponsor, or a surrogate mentor, please email me at ankinaerc@gmail.com for details on how you can help.

Showing up!  That is what people have been doing for my family for the past sixteen months. These amazing people have taught me about love, humility, and the blessing of serving others.

Before my cancer diagnosis I never fully appreciated the value of just showing up. I had many opportunities to show up for other people, but I put so much pressure on myself to do everything perfectly, that I invariably talked myself into believing it was too risky to even try.

I really wanted to help, but my focus was stuck on me and my insecurities instead of the people I could have blessed. What if they didn’t like the meal I brought? What if I said the wrong thing? Should I stay and visit, or hand over the food and beat a hasty retreat? Now I’ve learned that serving means more than just bringing a meal, which is a good thing because that obviously causes me a little bit of stress.

Thankfully, because of the graciousness of those who have come alongside us throughout my treatment, I have come to realize that this is NOT a journey we were meant to walk alone. Truth is, it is a privilege and blessing to be allowed to enter into someone’s pain and when we show up, even with our fears and insecurities, God meets us there with exactly what we need.

Just showing up says “I see you”, “I’m here for you”, and “You are loved”.  It’s not about doing it perfectly, but about doing it together. Showing up requires sacrifice and it is costly but it is possibly the greatest gift anyone could give or receive.

Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 1John 4:11

When I think back over the last year I am amazed at the ways people have demonstrated their love for us, and by them just showing up how perfectly God has met our needs. So many friends have delivered wonderful, delicious dinners. One family gave us $200 to help with our bills.  Another friend paid to board my horse because she knew hope is so important in healing, and her gift brought us hope.

Others stayed with my family during my surgeries, and some sat with me through chemo so I wouldn’t be alone.  One friend shows up to play cards just to make me feel better. You’d think she’d let me win every once in a while, but I guess my need to win is a completely different blog.

Someone planted flowers, another sent an overflowing care package, and many still send cards to let me know they are thinking of me. Then there are the many who continually pray for us. Oh what strength all this “showing up” has brought us!

So, the next time the Holy Spirit nudges me I will be ready, armed with the  examples of this amazing body of Christ that I get to call “sisters” who, like me, are…just living the thing.                                           

Reference:  “Just Show Up: The Dance of Walking Through Suffering Together” – Kara Tippetts & Jill Lynn Buteyn                                         

Our pastor is preaching a series on the Beatitudes from Matthew 5, and each week he reminds us that the word ‘blessed’ means ‘happy’. So, happy are the peacemakers, happy are those who mourn, happy are the meek, and the list goes on.

This got me thinking about Tuesday night worship at Celebrate Recovery; a ministry at our church. It is loud, energetic, and people worship with abandon; filled with joy. These worshipers recognize the depths of where they have been, and how far they have come with God, so their love and gratitude are overflowing!

In Luke 7:47 Jesus responds to the criticism of a ‘disreputable’ woman who washes his feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair by telling the haters;

“I tell you, her sins–and they are many–have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.”

In my own life I have observed that same kind of worship-effect with brokenness. When circumstances have left me feeling broken, battered and bruised, it was not very fun, but when I chose to walk in obedience to Christ in the midst of that brokenness, a joy that cannot be explained has filled me to overflowing.

Maybe there should be a verse that says something like,

“I tell you, her hurts–and they are many–have been healed, so she has shown me much gratitude. But a person who has not had many hurts to heal from shows only a little gratitude.”

It may sound a bit strange, but I do not regret any of the broken places I have had in my life, because of what has come out of that brokenness. The side effect of walking with Christ in sad, difficult, bitter, and unforeseen circumstances is inexplicable joy. Notice the key is walking with Christ; in obedience. That’s where joy comes from.

We can sit and wallow in our stuff, but that does not bring joy, and it keeps us right where we are. I did that long enough to know that the choice to sit and wallow allows the insanity of continued sorrow when things don’t magically change. It was only when I changed my attitude toward God, myself and my circumstances that I started experiencing the joy of the Lord.

He was patiently waiting for me to reach out to Him in obedience and do things His way. Oh, for the years I spent in agony and defeat. But, what’s past is past, and today there is joy.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” Matthew 5:6

Hunger and thirst for righteousness! Obey God and do the right thing during struggles, trials, heartbreak, and difficulties, because our Almighty God promises that when you do, you will be satisfied. After years of searching for satisfaction in many different places, now I want only to be filled, (satisfied) with Him, while I’m… just living the thing.

Read more from Sonna at sonnalevans.blogspot.com

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”- President Teddy Roosevelt

The past two years have been a season of drought for me. Northern California has had more rain, (hardly any), than I have had joy, (queue dramatic violins). For the record, I am NOT a naturally depressing person.  Normally, I am very excitable; enthusiastically pursuing life, relationships and experiences. But somehow joy has been lost.

Through excessive evaluation, I realize that I have been guilty of comparison and I hate it. Not only has it destroyed my joy, but also my dreams, my ability to believe, and my thankfulness.  Too much has been lost because I compare my life to others.

For example, most people my age are married, have the requisite 2.5 kids, own homes that don’t get attacked by millions of ants daily, have jobs with seniority, cars that are dependable and classy, robustly growing 401Ks, and take vacations…vacations that don’t put them into debt. But not me.

Well…I guess I could go to putt-putt-golf next weekend and I wouldn’t have to take out a loan, but ew, no thanks.  And ladies, don’t we all have that well-meaning girlfriend who talks incessantly about her “amazing” husband who does no wrong and is completely selfless? I just threw up a little.

God already gave us instructions to avoid comparison:

“You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his male or female servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”(Exodus 20:17)

When we want what isn’t ours, the desire to control takes over. I see the life I want, so I decide to make it happen. Unfortunately, that’s a recipe for disappointment. The illusion of control creates expectations that cannot be satisfied, and only leads to heartache and disappointment, which I learned the hard way this summer.

Thankfully, a “but” saved me.

“But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy…”  (Ephesians 2:4) stepped in. He created a situation so outside of my control that I could not fix or change it. I HAD to turn to Him for help.

Many tearful hours were spent in prayer and reading His Word. Instead of looking to my peers for hope, I was forced to look to at the One who created hope.  Instead of craving another’s life, I had to look to the One who already gave me what I needed to live (and more!)  I didn’t have the emotion or energy to compare during that time, I could only look to God and beg for help. My eyes were full of Him, instead of those around me.

Have I been completely cured? Well…somebody at work has a job I want, and the prestige should be mine! Clearly I am a work in progress, but that’s the thing. We are all works in progress, but we progress as we steadfastly look to God alone for our identity, and that is what it means to be… just living the thing.

    Lately I’ve been reading Genesis 28 and 35, and confess I may be a little jealous of Jacob’s experience of the stairway to heaven, with all those angels ascending and descending.  I too want the glory of heaven on me as I lay on my ‘Perfect Sleeper’ mattress from Costco.  I want assurance my life has a specific purpose.  I want what Jacob got at Bethel; a special word from God.

Bethel is holy ground in Jacob’s life. It is the place where God assures him of future blessing so huge, it was hard to wrap his mind around it. Jacob would become a great nation; his descendants multiplied like the stars. I don’t want that part, as I have enough stretch marks from the two I’ve birthed. However, I do want to hear God’s pronouncement of blessing for me and my family right here in Modesto, California. I’d like my own ladder from heaven.

In my mind, blessing and suffering are mutually exclusive. If God blesses my life, I should live in a state of blissful well-being, exempt from anything not happy. Yet sandwiched between God’s promises of blessings are two sad events. First his wife’s beloved nurse and helper dies, then his wife dies in childbirth.

According to my definition of a blessed life these events should have negated God’s words, sending Jacob into depression and despair. He should have every right to say: “I don’t want to be a great nation. I like my name Jacob. AND, I want my wife and my life back. THAT would bless me.”

But there is no evidence of Jacob questioning God’s words or rebelling against His ways. Instead, he seems fixed on God Himself, confident in His promises. Then, God speaks so clearly that Jacob builds an altar and names this sacred place of prayer Bethel; the place where God speaks.

Even after God speaks to me I often trip over places of heartache as though they discount His words. I want the anointing without the reality; the holy water that keeps me from unpleasantness, and worry, and dealing with anything negative. Ever again. Amen!

If I could only see beyond my tendency to trade my destiny for a bowl of temporary goodness, I could move past my disappointment into the calling of God.

Prayer is the place where God speaks; where I see more than the here and now and catch a glimpse of His eternal plan. I build altars at my Bethels, not so I will stake a claim on the blessing, but so I remember God spoke to me there. He will figure out the blessing. The pain I’m experiencing now in no way diminishes or thwarts His purpose.

Jacob’s prayer life, and his life of obedience after those sacred moments, speak to me. Keep walking forward. Base your hope on the truth, not your circumstances. Keep your focus on the ‘Bless-er’ rather than what you think the blessing should look like, and keep on…just living the thing.

Excerpt from Colleen’s upcoming devotional, “The Scent Of Blessing”.

It’s been too long since I have sat down long enough to indulge my love of writing, particularly about just living what I believe, so here goes…

I love living life in relationship with God through Jesus Christ.  Of all the things I could choose to believe in this world, the truth of God revealed in the Bible just makes sense to me.  So yes, I am all in. Separation is inconceivable and walking away is not an option.

Every day I wake up knowing this is still a pretty sweet deal.  In return for perfect, unconditional love, the constant, guiding presence of God, and the sure promise of eternity in His presence, I hand over my misguided willfulness, my limited vision, and a healthy dose of my own particular brand of crazy!

But I especially love living life in relationship with God, through Jesus Christ, and in community with people who believe like me that we have all been “intricately and curiously wrought [as if embroidered with various colors]”, by our Creator. (Psalm 139:15 Amplified Bible).

For this re-launch of the blog, four women in my community will be joining me as writers about just living the thing.  They each bring a unique, inspiring, been-in-the-trenches, point of view to getting up every day and making every effort to live this truth we believe.

Colleen is a quiet, unassuming, spiritual force.  No one has challenged me more to take giant leaps of faith off cliffs of fear, and out of the ruts of the ordinary and expected.  Authenticity in all her relationships makes this woman a rare and priceless treasure, and her honest, straight-from-the-heart writing will inspire and dare you to trust God with all your heart.

Adrienne makes me laugh!  As the youngest member of our writing group she brings the fresh perspective of youth and an almost inevitable impudence to the challenge of just living the thing.  This woman regularly reminds me that God is not intimidated by our questioning, or turned off by our struggles.  Strap in and hang on because it will be quite a ride.

Sonna’s strength and resilience in the face of difficult trials has been awe-inspiring.  She continually pours into the lives of others out of a wealth of experience and love for people, yet never hides from the reality that sometimes it is just hard to live the thing.  Raw and heartfelt truths coming from a very real place, and full of hope for the future.

Wendy is self-deprecating and genuinely humble. While she bemoans her lack of experience as a writer, the rest of us celebrate her recent “Writings from the Table” in which she shared her thoughts about just living the thing as she was being treated for cancer.  Her simple, steadfast, and enduring faith deeply moved our community of family and friends and we look forward to this budding gift continuing to bloom and flourish.

These are the women who will sharing their truth as together we’re …just living thing!

As I write this I am eagerly anticipating two pieces of information that would change absolutely nothing about my relationship with God, but would add to the ever-growing body of evidence of His continuous activity in my life.

The first is a pathology report from some samples taken from my colon just over a week ago, (I know, too much information, but bear with me).  The second is a picture of that same traitorous colon taken just over five years ago after a midnight trip by ambulance to the ER.

That drama was followed by four days of agony, tests and treatment for what turned out to be an “incurable but entirely controllable” disease, and had been preceded by over a year of agonizing pain, tests and treatments in search of a diagnosis.

Since that ‘lifetime sentence’ five years ago, I take six to eight pills every day with excellent results.  Little yellow pills controlled the disease, with no significant side effects..  Of course there are strict dietary rules for people with this disease, but hey, I am Jamaican, and we have a saying:

 “If Jamaicans were around when God shut the door to the ark, they would have found a way inside.”

 Which, written in our dialect looks more like this:

 “If wi did deh ‘round wen God shut di door to di ark, wi woulda did fine won way eenside!”

My oldest daughter chauffeured me to the hospital for this most recent colon-photography session, and had the gall to tell me about her plans to capture what she hoped would be hilarious video footage of me after the procedure.

Truth is, anesthetics make me act crazy…well…crazier!  After my last outpatient surgery it took over five hours to wake me sufficiently to send me home, and I was still loopy.  My so-called friends and ‘you-are-so-out-of-my-last-will-and-testament’ family members, still have an arsenal of funny stories about my post-anesthetic sayings and behavior.

After this procedure the doctor came out to the waiting room to give her the news that my colon looked pristine; there was no sign of the ‘incurable’ disease diagnosed five years ago, and if he had not seen my previous records, he would not have known I ever had that ‘incurable’ disease.

She told me the news as soon as I was lucid enough to understand and I burst into tears; albeit happy tears.

“Jesus did it?” I cried, half question, half statement.  “I knew He could do it.  I asked Him to heal me, and He did?”  The poor girl did not know what to do with me.

Of course, my doctor’s conclusion is that I must have been misdiagnosed five years ago, but that just does not fly with me, because I was there!  Moreover, the written record, beginning with a year of symptoms, the EMT’s who saw the evidence, four days of hospital records, and those pictures taken of my diseased colon, copies of which I am eagerly awaiting, all point to an accurate diagnosis of  an ‘incurable but entirely controllable’ disease.

 However, what is  waaaaaaaay more exciting to me than the possibility of a miracle in my colon, is something I have discovered about my faith in God during these days of waiting for results past and present.

 With everything in me I believe God is able to heal me completely from any disease, no matter what the label, but even if He does not, I will continue to love, believe, trust and follow Him till the last breath leaves my body on this earth.  Then, when I open my eyes again in heaven and see, and touch Jesus’ face, I will be the crazy Jamaican hollering:

 “I knew it was true!!”  (Jamaican dialect version: “Mi did know ah troo yuh nuh!!”

 I have always wanted the “even if He does not” kind of faith, but it does not come quickly, easily, or cheaply.  It is a choice I must make with every new challenge to its existence in me, because only then will I be ready for those times when the outcome is not what I want, and life on planet earth gets hard, painful, or just downright unfair.

 “For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day.” II Timothy 1:12

Thousands of years ago on the plain of Dura three Hebrew boys faced down an egotistical king, refusing to bow down to the ninety-foot high gold statue he insisted they worship instead of the one true God.  With the roar of the fiery furnace that awaited them in the background they gave the king their answer:

 “Your threat means nothing to us.  If you throw us in the fire, the God we serve can rescue us from your roaring furnace and anything else you might cook up, O king.  But even if He doesn’t, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference, O king.  We still wouldn’t serve your gods or worship the gold statue you set up.”  Daniel 3:16-18 The Message (italics mine).

Now that is some hardcore “even if He does not” kind of faith; the kind that does not waver in the face of threats, persecution, hurt, pain, sickness, suffering, lack, hardship, or even death.  I… want… that…kind…of… faith!

So, I wait for the results that will tell me if in fact a miracle has happened in my colon, while the lyrics from one of my favorite bands (Kutless) goes round and round in my head:

Even if the healing doesn’t come

And life falls apart

And dreams are still undone

You are God, You are good

Forever faithful One

Even if the healing

Even if the healing doesn’t come.

 Trust this; if there has indeed been a miracle, you will hear about it.  And, if He has not healed me, you will still hear about it, because God has been too good to me so I can never shut up about it!  You know how it is.  I will always be me…just living the thing.

Finally!  After months of some ugly dancing to the new music of my life, I finally feel as if I have regained my rhythm; just living the thing with smoother, more fluid movements from one step to the next.

Exactly four months ago I started a new job which required moving at warp speed on a learning curve of science, public health, politics, law, and the exercise of communication and management skills that have lain dormant for years.  It has been pretty heady, exciting stuff, and the true Lord of the dance, has been infinitely gracious and patient with me.

Everything in my Communication training says I should only share three things I have learned during my brief hiatus from “Just Living The Thing”, so of course I want to share four!

Number one:  Sometimes the plan may not be ‘The Plan’.

It is not easy to hear God in the middle of the noise and clamoring of daily life, and when you deliberately tune your heart and mind to listen, the thing He requires you to do may have you busting out a, “Get thee behind me satan”, in response to specific direction from God.

Even after you know it is Him, then the true state of your heart towards God is fully exposed in the glaring light of your decision to obey, or disobey and deliberately follow your own desires, motives and values.

But let’s say you choose determined obedience, even in the face of fear, it is so easy to begin to move three or four steps ahead of God, when you presume you now know and understand ‘The Plan’.  Or, you can find yourself completely bewildered and frustrated when the plan you thought was being executed is not ‘The Plan’ at all.

I was so sure  I knew ‘The Plan; I would finish my book, publishers would be falling all over themselves to get it to print, and I would be launched into a new career, writing and teaching all over the globe.  Not the immediate plan at all!

As a new sense of failure crept in, and some people were almost mocking, I learned that there is an even more advanced test of the state of my heart towards God; how do I respond when I discover that the plan I believe God has for me, may not be ‘The Plan’ at all.

Judas Iscariot failed this ‘state of the heart’ test in spectacular fashion, as I discovered writing a small part of  a Bible study for the women’s ministry at my church this summer.  Coincidence?  I think not!

When it became clear that Jesus had no intention of immediately ascending to the throne of David by capitalizing on His power to perform miracles and His overwhelming popularity with the people, Judas’ heart response was to manipulate the situation; to try to force Jesus to use His power to save Himself from death.  However, dying on a Roman cross as a perfect sacrifice to redeem and save His beloved human race from the consequence of sin WAS THE PLAN!  Lesson learned!

Number two:  Father does know best!

Somewhere in my life the lie got into my heart and head that God would not do what is the very best for me; that secretly, He really does not like me as much as He likes other, more spiritual people, and that living the life He planned for me would make me miserable.

Even though I now know, beyond any shadow of doubt, that is a lie from the pit of hell, every now and then it will raise its ugly head again.  Interestingly, that only seems to happen when life is not going the way I want it to, and I try to butt heads with God about it.  Hmmmmmm.  Coincidence?  I think not!

It was so obvious that God opened the door for me to my new job that only neon signs and a note signed by God, delivered by the angel Gabriel could have made it any clearer.  Nevertheless, as I walked into a non-Christian work environment for the first time in 30 years, I had to wonder what in the world God was thinking.

Surprise, surprise!  In all my working years I have NEVER felt more affirmed, more empowered, or more fulfilled, even when I am dog-tired after a long but completely rewarding day.  Yet for too long I kept waiting for the ‘other shoe to drop’, for ‘the honeymoon to be over’, for ‘reality to set in’, instead of simply enjoying what God had provided, for however long He provides it. Another lesson learned!

“There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from Him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?” (Ecclesiastes 2:24-25)

Number three:  Changing is not the hardest part of changing. 

When God lovingly confronts you to change some unhealthy pattern of behavior, actually making the change to a new way of thinking and conducting yourself is not the hardest part of the process.

The hardest part of implementing necessary change is dealing with relationships that you may not have realized were fueled by your inherently unhealthy behavior patterns and now those relationships also need to change, or they will die.

Facebook for me is just a tool; a way to maintain (almost) real-time contact with friends I already have, some from my childhood growing up in Jamaica, who are now scattered all over the globe, and Texas! J  (Still love you Juds!)  Facebook has never been a gauge or measure of my value, popularity, or the nature and quality of my friendships.

But while the music of my life has been changing I have been ‘unfriended’ on Facebook… twice!  Each time I was truly surprised that my heart reacted just as my body would if I accidentally stepped on what we in Jamaica call ‘mackah’ (a thorn); there was a little surprise, some pain from the hurt, and quite a bit of irritation, especially when I hear ‘through the grapevine’ things that are being said about me by people who should know me better.  I hate grapevines!

It is never an easy thing for me to not defend myself, guns a-blazing, but instead to simply stay focused and true to the work God is doing and let the chips fall where they may. What I have found in restraint is inexplicable peace, and undeniable freedom in trusting God to finish what He has begun, to a good, and perfectly complete end.

“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”  (Philippians 1:6)

And finally, number four:  Prayers prayed in parking lots can be pretty powerful!

Yesterday one of my young friends got married.  She was as beautiful a bride on the outside as she is a beautiful person inside, and her handsome groom had passed, with flying colors, the test of character and resolve by surviving a grilling (in more ways than one) dinner with her crazy Jamaican friends!

At one point in the ceremony their pastor placed a large hula hoop around the couple signifying their new life of “leaving and cleaving”; that only the two people in the circle of that hula hoop had final say in all matters related to their life in God from that day forward.

For the entire rest of the wedding, all the talk at our table was about missing, broken, repaired-patched-up-with-duct-tape hula hoops and who should not, could not or would not be allowed inside of whose hula hoops.  It was hilarious, yet clearly very impacting.

But in the midst of all the hula hoop dissertations, my mind kept going back to the numerous hours the bride and I had spent in parking lots after a “five-dollar-Tuesday” movie or an equally budget-friendly baseball game, just talking about the activity, or apparent inactivity of God in our lives.

It was a safe place to vent and be totally honest about everything that was satisfying and fulfilling, every challenge, every frustration, every desperate need and every disappointment or failure. Then we would pray; deep, sincere and sometimes tear-filled prayers, accepting our realities, re-committing ourselves to continue to follow hard after God no matter what the cost, and asking, but more often begging for His intervention and help.

Watching them make their vows before God and everybody, I could not help breathing a prayer of thanks to God, that He hears, and answers prayers; even prayers prayed in parking lots.  And afterwards, at the reception I could dance with great joy and abandon, celebrating the Creator of the music of my life, the Lord of my dance, the One who continually teaches me new steps, to new rhythms, all the while I am …just living the thing.

Exactly one year ago today I was confronted with a challenge that was so unexpected, so clear, and so vivid that it exploded my apathy, changed the entire direction of my life and profoundly, deeply, and permanently changed me at the very core of my being.  In time I may forget some things, or be uncertain of others, but when time is swallowed up by eternity I will still be absolutely certain that on Saturday, May 5, 2012, I heard the voice of God say, “Come!  Follow Me.”

This was not just a generic call to faith and obedience, it was specific; stop what you are doing, and come go with Me…somewhere.  There was something familiar about the summons:

“As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers; Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew…  ‘Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, ‘and I will make you fishers of men.’  At once they left their nets and followed Him.  Going on from there, He saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John… Jesus called them and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed Him.” Matthew 4:18-22

“As He walked along, He saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax collector’s booth.  ‘Follow Me,’ Jesus told him, and Levi got up and followed Him.”  Mark 2:14

Seriously?!  Just like that!  He said “Come”, and they left their jobs, abandoned their plans, and walked away from the familiar and certain towards the glorious uncertainty of divine adventure.

I cannot even pretend to be an adventurous person, yet here I stand looking back over the most exhilarating, and most terrifying year of my life, with no end to this thrill ride in sight.  Gone are the days of routine relationship, predictable purpose and little or no expectation of the unexpected or exceptional activity of God in my life.  Daily I am in awe at every discovery of truth about God, about other people, and about my own giftedly imperfect self; amazed at the circumstances and experiences that are slowly unveiling His direction and purpose for my life.

I wish the Biblical narrative gave more detail, or that these first followers kept a journal of those early days, weeks and months.  How did their family and friends react; with support or barely concealed ill will that questioned their motives or even their sanity?  And I would love to know if there were days when they doubted what they had heard, or second-guessed their decision.  Did their emotions soar with the miracles, the demonstrations of supernatural power, and the popularity of Jesus, only to plunge them into a raging sea of fear and doubt when challenged by persecution, testing and trials?

Over the past twelve months I have been so appalled at how fickle my emotions can be that for the rest of my life they are welcome to be present for everything but will be in charge of nothing!  My emotions simply cannot be trusted to follow where Jesus leads for they are perpetually drawn towards comfort and ease, and have an insatiable need for attention and affirmation.  I refused to be deterred or detained by their experience of sorrow or joy, but I will protect them as best as I can from those impressions, comments and opinions which do not serve the will or purpose of God in my life right now, and so cannot have my best interest at heart.

I wonder what impressions the first twelve had of their companions when they gathered for the first time in one place and got the opportunity to take stock of this motley crew Jesus had put together to change the world?  Were there cliques and competition already forming; blue collar workers versus political zealots versus wealthy opportunists?  Surely there must have been considerable surprise at some of His choices.

 Just as surprising are the companions He has chosen to walk this road with me, who received no formal invitation except a deep conviction from the Holy Spirit, and have absolutely nothing to gain from my journey.  They willingly and selflessly walk with me, with no agenda except to serve the will and purpose of God; always speaking truth liberally seasoned with love and grace.  You are my immeasurable wealth, vast riches and eternal treasure; an inheritance bestowed on me by God Himself for time and eternity.

Of the first twelve who responded to Jesus’ call to come follow Him, one committed suicide, consumed by his greed and ambition and of the remaining eleven only one is known to have died in his bed of old age.  Was it worth it?  Peter thought so:

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!  In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade… In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.  These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”  I Peter 1:3-9

John agreed:

“That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched – this we proclaim concerning the Word of life.  The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us…  We write this to make our joy complete.  This is the message we have heard from Him and declare to you:  God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all.”  I John 1:1-5

So, here’s the thing, on this first anniversary of that most fateful day, where am I on this journey; at the beginning, somewhere in the middle, or am I nearing the end?  I have absolutely no idea.  Every raw fear, every nagging doubt and every crippling insecurity have been laid bare to the glaring light of God’s truth, often leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable, “But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory and the One who lifts up my head.” (Psalm 3:3).  His love has finally broken through the prison walls that fear built, so that even in the face of uncertainty about my circumstances, or where the journey will take me next…

“…I KNOW in whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day.”  II Timothy 1:12

“Being CONFIDENT of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in (me) will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ;”  Philippians 1:6

Yes, I know in whom I have believed, and remain confident in His power and in His purposeful plan,… just living the thing.

Of the twelve men whom Jesus chose to be His disciples, the one I identify with most closely, and most often is Simon Peter, because he seemed to be the ‘talker’ of the bunch; always having something to say, with a tendency to put his foot in his mouth, and a penchant for spectacular faith one minute, and equally spectacular failure the next.  The fact that Jesus continued to love, accept, encourage and invest in Peter is a constant source of encouragement to me.

The empathy I feel for him peaks at every recounting of Peter’s struggles with doubt.  Sure, poor Thomas is the one stuck with the nickname ‘Doubting Thomas’, after his emphatic declaration that he would not believe Jesus had risen from the dead unless he saw Him with his own eyes and touched the scars from the crucifixion.  But there is more evidence in the Bible of Peter being repeatedly plagued by doubt, than Thomas’ one recorded moment of unbelief, not doubt; but more on that later.

There was the time when Jesus sent the disciples away in a boat, promising to catch up with them later; which was all well and good until they were caught in a sudden, violent storm on the Sea of Galilee which battered the boat around and put them all in peril.  Suddenly,  a ghostly figure comes walking towards them on…top…of…the…water, instantly redefining the nature and meaning of fear, until Jesus identifies Himself and they recognize that it really is Him.

Personally speaking, had I been in the boat, the first thing I would ask Jesus would be for Him to please calm the storm before somebody got seriously hurt or killed; after all He had done it before.  But not Peter:

“Peter answered Him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’  He said, ‘Come.’  So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus.”  Matthew 14:28-29 (emphasis mine)

Little bit of doubt; spectacular faith!  People can say what they want about Peter, but I don’t see anybody else jumping up and down, waving their hands and hollering, “Me too!”, willing to get out of the boat for something so gloriously life-changing as walking on water!  They may have wanted to slap him upside the head for being so presumptuous, or maybe they felt a little jealous they hadn’t thought to ask first, or maybe they secretly wanted to see him fail, to justify their own lack of spontaneous, reckless faith, especially in light of what happened next:

“But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’  Jesus immediately reached out His hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’”  Matthew 14:30-32

Peter still believed Jesus could walk on the water.  He still believed that Jesus had told him to come walking on the water too, and of course he believed that just moments before he had been doing exactly that; walking on water!  As a matter of fact, that very belief put into action was the substance of faith that propelled him over the side of that boat and on to the water in the first place.  But then Peter allowed the sight of the ferocious waves to invade his belief, corrupting it with uncertainty, stopping him from continuing to act on his belief and keep on walking toward Jesus.

So, while unbelief is a stubborn, rebellious refusal to accept truth (remember poor Unbelieving Thomas), doubt may be more accurately described is that venom of uncertainty which, if we allow it, will paralyze us into inaction; stuck where we don’t belong and sinking rapidly below the ferocious waves of whatever circumstance, trouble or trial it was that injected uncertainty into our present active participle believing.

Believing God is the biggest, most important, most thrilling, most adventurous, most daring thing I ever do in my life, and sometimes it frightens me how much, and how often I can be just like Peter; as likely to go flying over the side of the boat when I hear Jesus say, “Come.”, but equally likely to start hollering for Him to save me when I let uncertainty corrupt my faith, I begin to sink, and start feeling like I am going to drown.

Back in the early 1980’s no one knew I was sinking as I stared out a classroom window at the Jamaica Theological Seminary, in Kingston watching a herd of cows lumbering leisurely down the street in front of the school on their way to pasture.  After much investigation, prayer and counseling, I had resigned from a perfectly good, stable job at the Bank of Jamaica to pursue studies in Christian Education, because I truly believed that was the next right step God wanted me to take in my life.

In that particular moment however, the rest of the class was engaged in a passionate, scholarly, but what I felt was completely pointless debate about the Second Coming of Jesus, (pre-tribulation versus post-tribulation versus mid-tribulation…aaaaaargh!…as if any debate, discussion or argument on the subject could affect in any way whatsoever, the time God has already set for Jesus’ return).  All the while I was completely distracted by my envy of the care-free life of self-herding cows, and by the doubt that was quickly becoming a cacophony of squawking parrots in my head screaming, “What have you done?!  What were you thinking?!  You lunatic person you!  Has God said…?!”

Back then I had already acquired a PhD in negative self- talk, but this was the first time I had chosen to believe God enough take action; to attempt to get out of the boat and go walking on water, and though I did not know then, but it would not be the last time.   However, walking on water is hazardous business and over the years I have swallowed enough sea water to be highly motivated to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus, because certainty about God is the only thing that neutralizes the venom of paralyzing uncertainty or doubt.

Oswald Chambers describes it this way:

“To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring.  This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation.  We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God.  As soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has placed closest to us, He begins to fill our life with surprises.” Daily Devotionals by Oswald Chambers.

 So here’s the thing, in our relentless pursuit of God’s plan and purpose for our lives we are guaranteed at some point to feel the venomous sting of doubt or uncertainty.   We must make every effort to know our God; His perfect character, His eternal word, His unfailing love and His unwavering commitment to finish the work He began in us the moment we first believed.  Of these things we must become certain, and remain certain, if we are ever to get out of the boat, and go walking on water, in the middle of a storm, every time He says, “Come.”

Peter and me, impetuous and imperfect, but certain of God and …just living the thing.