Far, Far Away from Home

“All who wander are not lost” is a famous line from a J.R.R. Tolkien poem. The meaning parallels my own personal spiritual growth, which includes cultural competency and the Achilles heels of vulnerability and fragility. Though no stranger to moving, having tallied seven in the past 13 years, the most recent one, over 2,000-miles from West Michigan to the Vancouver, British Columbia suburbs, has been the most peculiar thus far. Despite what you make think, I am not some kind of nomadic free spirit. I am, ironically, a prototypical Enneagram type one, highly valuing systems and structure, explicit expectations, and secure outcomes. I am not a risk taker who enjoys unpredictability. If I were on Facebook, which I am not, the “anger” face emoji would best categorize my relationship with change and flexibility.  So, in God’s infinite, perfect plan, my redemption song has been comprised of a unique mix of cross-cultural church life on the frontline of racial reconciliation.

Last summer was a season of bittersweet goodbyes and a whirlwind of logistical to-dos. It required trying to stay attentive to everyday interactions and prepping for the adventure ahead of being an immigrant north of the United States. Processing my feelings while others expected me to manage their emotions was not easy. I wanted to have one more coffee date with one more person, but then regretted not having gotten to know someone else better or sooner when I had the time. There was a lot to juggle. As the farewell tour ended near the shores of Lake Michigan and the realities of a big life change started rising to the surface of my emotional psyche, among the beauty of North Dakota’s golden farmland, I was reminded of God’s absolute faithfulness. It was great. But during a stopover in Missoula, Montana, I still had a light panic attack.

The romantic notions I had anticipated for a summertime filled with leisurely excursions along British Columbia’s sprawling shores have mostly evaporated due to COVID-19 restrictions. The nearby U.S.—Canada borders remain closed, leaving me physically and socially distanced in a different way, barred from any semblance of American familiarity since vacations back to the State had to be cancelled. The feelings of disorientation are distinct and strong. Adjusting and readjusting so much, making new plans as a way of life it seems, takes its toll. Nevertheless, through each disruption of my 30-60-90 summer fun calendar, God is inviting me to unclench my fists and stop resisting uncertainty’s ebbs and flows and instead embrace the freedom and peace that obedience offers. This posture, of course, does not come with a detailed, color-coded map of each step, nor does it confirm any sort of extended warranty or guarantee. Far from it.

“But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourself.” (James 1:22) I believe this, but bewilderment, frustration, and setbacks will still be encountered along the way. And yet, in Christ, empowered by the Holy Spirit, I have an opportunity to lay aside every weight and no longer consume myself with being misunderstood, misrepresented, or even mischaracterized in order to boldly pursue him more and more. These interesting traveling orders my husband and I keep receiving are far from mere wandering for the sake of discontent or curious exploration. Each stop on the voyage has a clear purpose, whereby I can go deeper with God and in so doing increase me capacity to shine light into darkness. Wearing masks and staying six feet  apart from others is no match for the power of God to use men and women for Kingdom work, which always begins with internal revelation.

The recent protests in response to the murder of George Floyd has captured the world’s attention, as the battle cry for centuries of racialized violence and the dehumanization of African Americans to end. The unrest over the violation of basic human rights reveals even more that being a static, complacent, apathetic, sanitized Christian, who plays everything safe, is not an option. In fact, biblically, it never was. Being disengaged with or dismissive about what sickens God in this world is unacceptable. Revelation 3: 16 warns how the lukewarm will be vomited out, banned from God’s eternal presence. Future generations of Christian, who will servant and lead the people of God, and even the world, will not be developed by those worshiping endowments and statues.  Authentic relationships with our neighbors and strangers will not happen by way of hashtags or social media blackouts. True hospitality and relationships with the less fortunate are infinitely more valuable than charitable donations, although we need financial investments in the work of God. Living a borderless faith requires submitting to the Holy Spirit and allowing him to guide me into action. “To go” is an inclusive command. It is non-negotiable if you are a believer. St Teresa of Ávila, a Spanish mystic and Carmelite nun, insisted that contemplation and action are inseparable.

Matthews 28: 19-20 proclaims, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Each believer is called to take holy risks for the sake of the gospel. We all have ordained, missional assignments to build the Kingdom of God. Whether called to overseas cultural immersion, joining a parachurch organization on the rejected side of your town’s railroad tracks, or fearlessly rebuking bigoted comments of your family members, friends, or associates, absolutely no Christian gets a pass.

I do not know how many more cross-country excursions or international, customs laden assignments God will invite me to, but whatever happens will be for his glory and my good (Romans 8:28). My imagination and projections are too small to compete with the bigger and perfect vision God has for my life. As the words of a gospel spiritual echoes, “…as a pilgrim traveling through this barren land” I want to say “yes” to God’s call more than I hesitate or am paralyzed by fear. I want more of him to shine through in my life. I want to anticipate his power and grace in all of life’s many transitions: miraculous wonders, everyday routines, seasons of wilderness or waiting, moments of surprise, and even loss and suffering. Wherever he leads me, I am resolved to go until he calls me home, transitioning from this earthly wasteland to the Promised Land of heaven.