Into the Deep
It was 2015 when I drove the 6 hours with my best friends to Newport Beach. The refreshing, perfect blue Pacific was gently crashing onto the beach. As the waves embraced the sand, I waded out past the shore. Through the waves that had been playfully wrestling with me, challenging me to pass them, I began to struggle. I was past the main part of the beach now, far enough for my friends to warn me about wandering too far from the shore. And in this unexplainable moment I held my breath and proceeded to dive beneath the waves. I swam downward until I could watch them roll over my head, and beneath me was this drop. The glossy sand dropped off into the canyon that was the Pacific. I froze, panicked and rocketed back up to the surface. It was in this breathe, something grabbed me. Deep inside of me I felt the call to dive back down. Into the Deep. And so I gathered myself, and this time, instead of frantically descending, I sunk. I sunk like a child falling into their mattress after a long day. The comparison of sinking into rest was palpable. And there again my mind began whispering(fairly reasonable) warnings. “Nick, there are sharks, waves, currents, and endless ocean beneath your feet, turn back for your own safety.” And yet, a gentle whisper radiated down through my bones, vibrating me to the core. Deeper. I moved my body forward, and I froze once more. Right there at the edge of the deep I paused, and the noise began to fill my head once more. I turned, and back to the surface I went. Back to the shore.
In a season to follow, I would venture out to Mexico twice in about 6 months, to serve others, to learn, to enjoy the awaking the Lord brought into my soul by working with children, and the ministry through H121 Racing. My passion for missions was awakened. I would begin to dig deeper online for long term mission trips, looking to follow this newfound passion, even if it just meant doing research and deciding it wasn’t for me. Online I found the World Race, created an account, looked out Route 5: The Dominican Republic, Haiti, Botswana, South Africa, and the Philippines. It was so perfect, living out of a backpack for about a year? Traveling, unplugging, and beginning to dive deeper in to my faith? It was so perfect I immediately shut my laptop and resolved to never look at the website again. The water was too deep for me.
In 2016, I leapt off a rock deep in Tahoe National forest into an crystal clear swimming hole in the middle of the American River. This amazing still pool resided in the middle of what was otherwise a raging river. The water was like a window, 20 feet deep, and an icy refreshment that took the air out of my lungs, only to make my heart jump and wake me up. I could have stayed there forever, I thought to myself. My brother/best friend Austin then decided to try and scale a cliff on the way back, feeling invincible and filled of purpose. About 30 feet up the shale Cliffside is when Austin had to rope back down because the ground was giving way beneath our feet. To rocks that I sought for rest and shelter weren’t rocks at all on this Cliffside, Instead they were piles of shale as easily swept away as dust by a broom. The trees I thought to use as ropes were pulled out the Cliffside as easily as loose shoe laces. And when 100 feet up or so, closer to the top of the cliff, when I could finally lace my arms and legs around a tree sticking out perpendicular to the cliff, I started laughing hysterically. I remember thinking, for what? In this moment, in this ridiculous situation, I began thinking of Route 5. I felt the same voice that had called me out into the waves on the beach, reverberating oh so gently in the base of my skull. At the time, I had no clue what I was agreeing to. Right there with my Creator, he did something for me. In a time of struggle and strife, where my decisions had led my to this fight for my life, my Friend spoke to me. The Spirit oh so gently offered me something I hadn’t been given many times in my life: surrender. The exact words that came out of my mouth? Ok, you win. I’ll Go.
Septemer 10, 2017.
I’m doing laundry. In comparison to the former paragraphs I know that may not be the most glorious attention grabber. But If I’m being honest with you I’m a little frustrated, the first washing machine ate my money and detergent, hotel’s am I right?
Well I’m in Atlanta, ready to launch on the World Race Gap Year, Route 5. Believe me when I say, that months later the journey didn’t get any less harrowing. I couldn’t assure you of my mental state during the writing of this blog. It’s 6:34 in the morning here, and tomorrow we leave for the Dominican Republic. $10,300 funded? Yup. Shots? Ew. But Yeah. Being Firmly convinced that I’m ready for this while at the same time being ready to crawl under a rock with some tacos for the next 12 years? Check. The goodbyes have been said, relationships worked on(some still under construction, I’ll update you on that later), advice has been given and received. And in the nature of writing I’ll be fully forthright with you. It was easier hanging off that cliff. Emotionally, that was simple. That made sense. However; this? This half-baked idea of living out of a backpack in communities around the world? That one is terrifying. That one sits me down real quick. Do you remember that feeling when you were younger, when you threw something at someone thinking it wouldn’t hit them because you can never hit what you aim at, but the second it leaves your hand you know it’s going to thump them upside the head? Well if you’ve ever been so unfortunately accurate, let me just say I sympathize.
So Will I. The song relentlessly reverberates down my spine and echoes into my chest whenever I hear it.
- If the stars are made to worship So Will I
- If the mountains bow in reverence
- If the wind goes where You send it So Will I
- If the oceans roar Your greatness So Will I
- For if everything exists to lift you high, so Will I
- If the rocks cry out in silence, So Will I
Most importantly, Jesus, If you leave the grave behind you, So Will I.
If you, Jesus, tell me that you left the grave behind you, if you Jesus ask me to walk as you walk, to trust you, to follow you, to let go. If you ask me to swim into the deep where I cannot do this on my own, then Jesus, if you ask that of your people? Then So Will I. If you ask me to submit, and surrender, and lay down my stubbornness, if you ask me to leave my heart at your throne, all the good and the bad and the heartache and the heartbreak then ok. So Will I. I trust you. I don’t know fully what that will look like yet around the world, but I’m ready to find out. I’m ready to wade out into the blue, into the deep.
