The rain rumbles in like a creeping mist. It greets my kitchen window with melancholy pursuit. Outside of the window, under the command of the rain, the leaves on the coral vine dance with passionate rhythm.
It is a beautiful scene from inside.
I’m reminded of the allegory of the cave. There is more beyond what I see from my kitchen window, but am I willing to risk the consequence of seeking out more? There are factors I don’t fail to take into account because I know they exist: lightning, flooded areas, humidity.
What do I know beyond what I can see?
I imagine this is what it is like when the time comes to reach further than what we know of God and what we know of our place in this world.
I infer this is what we feel when we pray.
When I pray I offer my words and thoughts to God, but how do I know he is on the receiving end if I cannot see him? I cannot fathom a God, beyond what I can comprehend, who would intently listen to me while all of the world floods in chaos.
If I can set aside what I see for what is beyond sight and sound, I will learn to better exercise my faith.
With complete confidence I emerge from my cave to what is beyond whether that means I will be blinded or carried. When I return to ascertain this wonder I must also have complete confidence in seeking refuge.
Lord, help me to be a better believer and wanderer.
What happens to our souls when we venture out? When we question what is in plain sight and move beyond our known spaces?
Fear often grips us. We are led to believe that our wondering hearts are in danger if not confined to the ever present rules set out for us. These rules stifle our soul’s natural, creative hunger and place of holy adventure.
God wants us to seek him far beyond the confines of walls and spaces. He wants us to navigate distant places knowing he will not fail us.
He will not let us go.
His majestic beauty paints the landscape of our purpose.
And when we finally hold our purpose in our hands, we must come back and seek refuge.
We must come back and live out that purpose. We must live out our holy adventure.
Where is your holy adventure taking you?