Our minds are a pretty powerful thing. It is no wonder the gospel demands we be transformed by the renewing of our minds, that we are called to break free from the patterns of this world. Our perception drives our reality. And our minds are the trough from which our soul gleans perception.
The last three years of my life have been insane. Beautifully insane. During all of the wonderful transition and chaos, the Lord has been working to redeem my mind, to rescue my perception. Over the last three years, I have travelled the world, served in my dream job at my home church, gotten married, and realized my lifelong dream of being a published author.
By all worldly weights and measures, I have arrived. I’ve reached the destinations.
My mind has been telling me my entire life that destinations are the answer. If I just get this one thing, if I just receive this one truth, all the rest of the pieces will fall into place. The more I live, the more I am convinced that we have confused the relationship between journeys and destinations.
I’ve been at hundreds of youth camps, mission trips, and other spiritually-awakening destinations. The thing is… they are never as final as I expected them to be. The journey always continues.
My flesh is obsessed with destinations. My flesh foolishly believes that everything is just a moment away. The inaccuracy of this perception is not that it is false, but that it overlooks. Because everything isn’t a moment away. Everything is in this moment.
I need destinations to validate my journey. I need journeys to get me to destinations. I need some sort of finality, some point where it all comes together, where it all makes sense. I need to arrive somewhere, to reach a point where I can put up my feet, take off my shoes, exhale slowly, and sigh “I am home.” The point that ends all points, where I am no longer afraid or confused, no longer having to try so hard or trust so many gaps.
The problem with my obsession with destination is that I quit the journey when I get to one. I am in such a hurry to get to a destination, to not have to try or struggle any more. I mistake checkpoints for finish lines. I quit the race when there are miles left to explore.
Marriage is not a destination. The World Race is not a destination. Settling down and having a family is not a destination. Being a published author is not a destination.
The reason I struggle on the other side of these accomplishments is because I thought they were the end and I have no idea how to live on the other side of it. I made it to the end of the episode, but instead of a neatly wrapped up conclusion, it is one of those annoying episodes that ends “to be continued…”
I bought a t-shirt once from a kayaking company in Tennessee that boldly suggests “the journey is the destination.”
In the Kingdom of God, the destination is Heaven. Which, I believe, is both present AND not-completely-realized. My home is a journey. The World Race, marriage, writing, and anything else I experience is not going to provide the satisfaction and fulfillment of the Kingdom of God. The daily joy of the Presence of God, in all circumstances, emotions, and settings – this is the Kingdom of God.
The relationship between journey and destination is complicated. On the one hand, the presence of one negates the presence of the other. If I am on a journey, there is no destination fully realized. And, if I am at the final destination, there is no journey left to be had. Once I cross the finish line, the race is over. This is what I long for. But this is not what I am called to. This is not how the Kingdom of Heaven operates on the planet Earth. On the other hand, with a slight adjustment in perception, it can be believed that journeys and destinations are coupled. And that to fully operate in one is to fully operate in the other.
This idea has never been as prevalent in my life as it is in my marriage to Kylie. Home is where she is, where we are together. In that way, no one geographic location is home. And yet, every geographic place is home, provided we enter it in unity and healthy perception.
I believe the biggest challenge holding back this generation of disciples is the challenge of rightly identifying journey and destination. When we can get past our mind-block that insists worship must be done in the way we prefer, that we cannot serve unless it is in the way we have served before, that community looks like the way it looked that one season we really enjoyed and grew, then we can begin to live a journey that is content with a constant pursuit of the gospel. A journey that is its own destination. A journey that does not demand the milk and honey in the Promised Land because it recognizes that the Lord is present in the desert. And that the only real difference in manna and milk/honey is our own taste buds, not the fulfilled promises of an ever-present God.
Like most things in the spiritual realm, it is all about balance. I’ve got to learn how to celebrate and appreciate my checkpoints while not letting them become immovable stakes that shackle my journey. To realize that ‘getting there’ is not a measure of completeness but of participation.
Blessings to you on your journey.
