As Mount Zion lays in front of me, He holds His hands out and asks if I’d like to dance to the top.
Behind me are safe shores, filled with smiles that I love and it smells like home.
I see that heart-shaped state behind me and waves of nostalgia hit my ankles.
I hear my favorite laughs and mandolins mixing with the sound of the crashing shores.
But the sounds are fading. They won’t be there forever.
Everything I’ve ever known is at my back and the breeze is calling me forth.
I don’t know what Zion will look like.
I see it at a distance and it sure is beautiful, yet unfamiliar.
I look up at God’s excitement-filled smile as He prepares for our dance.
He already knows the way up and has paved it perfectly.
He has spent an infinite amount of time preparing Zion for this very moment.
He knows what’s to come and it is good.
Do I abandon all that I know, all that is safe, for Zion?
For a mountain that I’ve eagerly looked at with longing every day since I was young?
Will I go the distance to see the top?
Will I give it all to the dance?
He looks at me.
There’s a stillness that I somehow find in His eyes and though I don’t know what’s to come, I feel a sense of security. He’s never been a dictator and He never will be. He will always be a Father that knows what’s best, but wants the climb to the mountain to be a dance, not a drag. He knows me like the back of His hand; my fear is no stranger to Him. He’s the One that’s called me to this word abandonment that seems so fresh and feels so real that I can almost feel the word as it rolls off of the tip of my tongue. He hears me through my stuttering and is patient as I read off reasons why I should walk back to the water.
I was afraid of forgetting the sounds of the laughs that I grew to love so well- the songs those laughs would turn into that came from the same voices that have now turned into muffled calls and quick updates. I didn’t want to look away from the eyes that had watched me lose my first tooth, ride my bike for the first time, and walk across the stage with my diploma in hand- the eyes that gave me the same blue in mine. I was fearful of forgetting the feeling of the hands of the community that placed theirs in mine, ready to conquer to the world. I was afraid of losing my very own Zion.. The one that I had spent so long building.
But the moment I looked up, I knew that what God had in this new Zion held so much beauty and missing out on it’s sight would be worse than remaining on the shore. This new Zion carries gardens of growth, songs of joy, and lands of redemption. The shores are visible from the top, and they are even more beautiful from this new view. And the best part is? I get to share it with the One Who’s worth it. I get to dance up the mountain with the One Who carries the same blue in His eyes, the same laugh that sounds like music to my ears, and the same hands that showed me how to conquer the world in the first place.
Abandonment is a word that puts a pit in your stomach when you say it out loud. It’s a word that no one enjoys writing out.. But it turns into something so beautiful when God comes into play. He turns the definition from loss to gain. He brings from it new callings, new souls to be met, new adventures and memories..
As I stammer on and on about the things that had already grown further in the distance behind me, I begin to come short of breath.. Then I look up. I see His face and I see the one thing that I was afraid of leaving:
Home.
I thought I’d share with you all something that is very real for me at the moment: This inner fear of abandonment and the redemption that lies within it.
With preparing to leave for Indonesia just months after I will be home from an 11-month journey, I’ve come to terms with things that I’ll be missing but also what I’ll be gaining by saying, “yes” to this calling.
And can I tell you something? I have never been more excited.
I’ve felt such a great joy within me because of all that the Lord is doing in my life and I cannot wait to watch it all play out! There are times where I’ll find myself with a huge smile plastered on my face and it’s hard to wipe away. I know and I trust that My Father has such beautiful things prepared for Indonesia and I am so thankful to have the opportunity to be just a small vessel.
God has done so much in order to help me come to terms with the word abandonment and I really just wanted use this blog to be vulnerable with you all and let you know that I’m ready to dance to Zion with arms wide open and He’s the One to thank for that. 🙂
Update: I’m $4,400 away from being fully funded for these first six months in Indonesia. If you’d like to help send me to this beautiful country, you can donate at https://www.gofundme.com/a-race-for-the-refugees
