Down to the river

 

I've been asking the Lord why He brought me here — to the north of Moldova, to eastern Europe, to the World Race. What are You up to Dad? For a lot of people, the Race seems to have been their escape from normal life. In his new book Kingdom Journeys, Seth Barnes calls it the "Gift of Restlessness," this deep need for something more. I didn't have that. I was growing a lot at home. My community challenged me so much. I honestly didn't begin feeling restless until I got out onto the field.

 

It's been a question on my heart for a while. And now, I see that He is revealing His purposes to me so clearly. I think I started to get it last week when we went down to the river. The women on my team worked scraping paint in the morning and then went to a local salon. Along with my contact and the other two guys on my team, I went to cut down trees to make firewood, in preparation of the coming winter.

 

After a long day, we were finally done, and our contact Andrei led us down a path to the river, where we could bathe. Now I've learned to get creative with bathing over years of doing foreign missions, and one of the best tips I've learned is simply not to get my hopes up when it comes to cleanliness. This was going to be my first real bath since we left debrief at the beginning of the month, and I was afraid of setting expectations too high. 

 

I'm not really specifically motivated by hygiene; I enjoy being clean — don't get me wrong — but I'm pretty okay without a shower for a while, as long as it isn't causing others to stumble, if you know what I mean. All month long, my hair has been getting dirtier and dirtier. We had relatively nice showers at debrief and I washed my hair. But I have thick hair and Moldova has low water pressure, and there has been residue in my hair since August. Gross. Add to that a couple of good (but unsuccessful) attempts at bucket showers, and my hair was sort of beginning to dread itself. 

 

So, as I stripped down at the bank of the river, I had a couple of thoughts going through my head. I knew that the water was cold and I wanted a hot shower. I knew that the helmet that was fusing together on my scalp could use the salon treatment that the women were getting at that very moment in town. I realized that I had forgotten my shampoo and would have to ask to borrow Tom's. In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal. But in that moment, shivering at the water's edge, standing ankle deep, it was. I was overwhelmed and frustrated.

 

But I had committed. I splashed some water over my body and hair and lathered up. I kept going out into the water, gingerly taking one step at a time. Deeper and deeper with each footstep. The current was strong and by the time I was waist-deep, it was hard to stand. My breath was short. The water was frigid. "Well here goes nothing!" I thought to myself. I let go of control and let the current take me under.

 

I stayed under a good 15 seconds, although it felt like much longer. When I came up to breathe, I felt so clean it blew my mind. I ran my fingers through my hair. It felt cleaner than I can remember it feeling before. The strong current pulled everything else out and away.

 

"This is why I brought you here," He's been telling me. "To bring you into a whole new kind of clean; to let the current of My presence pull away everything that's stuck to you over the last season of your life; to give you a fresh baptism."

 

I got to talk with my parents after that and as I told them about my experience bathing in the river, my mom pointed out how well that reflects God's heart. "Sometimes," she explained, "healing is a painful process." But God loves us too much to let us stay the same.

 

I realized that with the Lord, we don't always understand how good it is to cross the river until we get to the other side. We don't recognize how important it is to go under until we come back up. We don't see how perfectly laid the path is until we look back, after taking the step of faith.

 

Oftentimes, God calls us to strip down, standing before Him vulnerable and exposed; He calls us out of our comfort zone on the bank of the river, where we are close enough to enjoy the water at our convenience, without needing to worry about losing control. No, He calls us into deep water, where we have to surrender. It is usually shock-inducing at first, it's definitely not comfortable. But it's good. And in the violence of the rushing water, we are changed. We are healed, we are restored. Our burdens fall away, floating downstream. And we come up new — clean.

 

In Ezekiel 47, the prophet experiences what it is to walk out into the depths of the River of God. This is what God is calling me to. To step out with Him into the depths of Himself and let the current of His love and presence sweep me away. I realized that over the last seven or eight months, a lot of residue has built up, and He is now beginning to pull it all away, washing me in His River. So many burdens for people at home, in South America and on my squad. So many loose ends left untied. I've accumulated so much heaviness all over my soul. The Lord is cleaning me all over again, making me new, making me ready for the new season He is calling me into.

 

Have you let Him lead you out to deep water recently? Have you stood before Him exposed in a while? Let Him wash you clean! Let Him in again. In His goodness, let Him make you new!