Hillsong’s Oceans came out right around the time I was really gearing up for the World Race. It became our squad’s banner song. We sing it at every debrief. In the beginning, we sang it at nearly every worship night. Eventually, it felt overdone – the words becoming meaningless. So I put it on the shelf.
On Saturday, at church with Malaysian University students, the familiar chords echoed through the hall. Knowing that this song – a song that went from inspiring to annoying to unheard – was about to make a reappearance, I closed my eyes and just listened.
I thought about the girl listening to Oceans a year ago, about to leave everything she knew to step out on the waters. That girl – oh, how much she had to learn. She was anxious and worried. She had given up all hope in her dreams. She did not believe she ever could be loved. She did not feel worthy. That girl was scrambling to put the pieces of her life together, grasping for moments of peace and joy, holding onto the last-ditch effort that this journey had become for her. That girl was pretending that she had some semblance of control. She loved Jesus in the best way she could, but did not know how to let Him love her.
“Lead me where my trust is without borders,” was not just a desire to be challenged but a cry for help, a plea for survival. She was willing to be “called upon the waters” as long as the waters were far from her current life. She needed escape. She hated what she and her life had become. She wanted the unshakeable faith that would allow her to step forward into the complete unknown, to recklessly trust her Savior in a way that would alter her to her core. She wanted her soul to rest in the embrace of her King, but had no idea how to earn her way there. Little did she know that this song, this proclamation, was not just about countries and people and the idea of leaving life behind, but about the spiritual milestones and mountains and valleys and waters The Lord wanted to take her through.
She knew she could not walk on the water. She knew she had been drowning for a very long time. But she also knew that fearfully running full-force, arms flung wide into the waves, was far better than remaining on the safe and lifeless shore. So she looked at the ocean in front of her, full of dark mystery and unknown, and dove in.
Now, nearly 11 months later, she sits, listening to this song again. And she sees how far The Lord has brought her – not just in miles, though those are many – but in growth. He has healed her. He has restored her dreams and given her new ones. He has renewed her passions. He has shown her how to trust and walk in boldness. He has shown her the meaning of surrender. He has given her countless blessings. He has shown her numerous miracles. He has shown her love and grace and mercy.
She has travelled to 11 countries in 11 months. She has held the hands of precious children, wrinkled grandmothers, and her best friends in numerous nations. She has laughed uncontrollably, sung joyfully, and cried in agony. She has prayed and listened. She has made life-long friendships. She has fought through language and culture barriers to share the love of Jesus. She has laid face down in the throne room, yearning for the presence of her savior. Her feet have failed her many times and still do, but she knows that the faithfulness of The Lord will continue to lift her above the waves. She is confident in her identity. She knows the love of Jesus is not based on anything she can or will do. She knows exactly who God made her to be. She knows her worth.
In this moment of clarity, tears running down my face, I realized that I am not finished with this song. My trust must still be without borders.
The waters are no longer the jungles of Asia, the bush of Africa, or unknown ministries and a world full of strange and exciting possibilities. Now, the waters are the unknowns of going home – of facing the life from which I fled. The water is trying to remember my life with those around me, to reconnect with people who have lived their own separate lives for a year. The water is facing having to move back in with my parents. The water is not having a job or money or any idea of what the next steps toward my new big dreams will be. The water is leaving the community of 40 people I have grown with this last year.
Oceans is back on my playlist. It is not just a song. It is the story of how The Lord continues to call me to deeper, greater things. It reminds me that this is not always easy, and it is not always clear, but He is faithful. It reminds me of exactly how far He has walked with me on these waters this year. I no longer even see the shore I left so long ago. And as long as I am in His presence, I will have His strength. Because He calls me out upon the waters. Because I can call upon His name. Because I am His and He is mine.
I can remember the girl on the shore in love because I know that is not the end of her story. She answered that call. will you?
