I stood in the back corner if the worship center. On stage was a group of adults who had once been ministered to through our church as either youth or college students. Memories of past Disciple Now weekends as a young college something flashed through my mind.

As the band sang the words of David Leonard’s song, Light a Fire, the familiar passage from Psalm 51:12 (NIV) came to mind.  “Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.” I remembered being a young person, filled with dreams and plans. Fresh from a summer on mission, my heart was on fire to serve Jesus. Back before life got full. Complicated. Hard.

Tears leaked from my eyes. Remembering the freshness of God from two decades ago led me to compare that season to my current one. I know God so much more intimately now than I did then. I’ve had to test out all the words to scriptures and songs I learned back then. God has become my Rock. My Strength. My Source of Life. Even a flotation device.

Head Above the Water

There have been so many seasons, especially these last few years where my head was barely above water. My legs and arms struggled against life’s current, and mouthfuls of water often caused me to spit and sputter. I’ve been doggy-paddling. Bobbing up and down. Treading water. I’ve been surviving the waves that life throws at me. Surviving. But not living.

Don’t get me wrong. My faith in God is larger than it has ever been. He’s the only reason I’ve made it this far. But I long for days where I’m not rushed or under deadlines. Days filled with wholeness of health and mind. Sunrises and sunsets unhindered by life’s demands and obligations.

As a young college student, I imagined being able to live and not merely survive. I couldn’t wait to get married, have a family, obtain my dream job, and build my dream house. In my mind it would happen so seamlessly and the completeness those achievements would bring would afford a life of fullness and ease.

All those achievements are wonderful, and I can say I’ve now reached them all—but none of those brought fulfillment. As a matter of fact, they have all been hard. Challenging. And then throw in all the everyday struggles of life, and I can see years and years of surviving. The only common thread who sustained me through it all is Jesus.

I realized this weekend that life is worth living, not surviving. We’ve struggled in transition for so many years. This weekend, as eight of those kids from Disciple Now were able to stay at our house, I had a moment of life. We did it. We moved into our new home. We can finally give back and invite others in. There is still so much to be done, but the old mobile home was pulled away this week on the same day that we got a taste of living again.

Learning to Live

Learning to live again means slowing down and not running myself ragged. It means giving myself permission to sit still, read, write, and just be in my new home. It means not overscheduling and going ninety to nothing all the time. It means reconnecting with the God who has sustained me through the years of chaos and learn to know him in the pace of peace.

I’m grateful for the survival season where hits come from all sides in unexpected intervals. But gosh I’m tired. Doggy-paddling wears a body out. I’m ready to live and learn to ride the waves instead of being sucked under. To float and relax in the sun instead of sinking under the weight. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a shift of mind. Of heart? Either way, this weekend gave me a taste of living and I want some more of it.