Going somewhere.

I suppose, I just didn’t want to admit that suddenly, I was afraid.

So I’ve been walking step by step in confidence, holding Your hand and walking on water, amazed at this miraculous leap of faith, and suddenly I realize where I’m at and how far I’ve gone… and on looking down, become frightened by the waves and feel like I’m drowning.

If only for a moment.

So I’ve started work, I’ve started bringing my parents out and paying for bills and being more grown up and independent…

… And I just got scared. But the thing which scared, scares me the most, is realizing where this all leads to.

Just after I had written about my commitment to living my life in a way which took regard for the poor, daddy coincidentally gave me The Talk soon after. The Talk: finance, savings, rent, buying a home, marriage, being independent.

Suddenly, when I realized what this growing up meant, I got scared and wanted to return to the past.

It’s not Your fault, God. It’s not like you cheated me into coming this way. But now that I’m here, it scares me outright when I realize how much faith it took to come to this place. Now, even the slightest waver of faith overwhelms me because I’m just too far out from the shore. Taking my eyes off You for just one second to look at the waves below causes me to sink immediately.

It’s all this talk about saving, and moving on in a relationship, and buying a house and choosing a spouse… And how hard it is. How very hard this all is and will be, especially marriage, and how much suffering and pain and anguish it will bring at some point.

Which makes me doubt them when they keep saying that in spite of all that suffering, it is ultimately worth it.

Really?

Last Saturday, I attended my first wedding at my own church. For some reason, I felt quite estranged from it all. My heart was heavy and my mind was elsewhere, imprisoned in fear. In Africa, God had done a great work in my heart by opening it up, and suddenly, I felt the gates closing in on me again. There was fear, and a lot of it.

Endless quarrelling and bickering and frustration and annoyance and grating each other just came into my head- it’s all my inner child is familiar with. I know, independence is hard work, work is hard work, missions is hard work, living alone is hard work but… …

… nothing is harder than marriage.

I guess, I just didn’t want to admit, how scared I really am of growing up. Because it means leaving the past behind, leaving what I’m comfortable with behind and walking into a future with a big question mark over the roof on my head, the food I will eat and the hand that will hold mine.

Just in case you think a daddy like the one I have would gladly buy me a house or a car like my classmates’ parents, think again- because this is the same man who didn’t buy me the roadbike I really wanted after I’d given the money meant for it away because “it was a matter of principle.”

” I know my talk with you about money and marriage and the future was not easy to listen to, but I want to give you only the fishing rod so you can learn how to fish.”

But I’m not half as scared of working or being independent as much as I am of building a future with someone else. Everyone keeps saying how hard being in a relationship or marriage is, and it just makes me want to go backwards. Back to the start. Back where everything is simple and easy and straightforward and lonely and frustrating at times but predictable and safe.

Even though something deep inside me longs for God’s idea of adventure and not my kind of safety. Yet, another voice says: if it’s too hard, I don’t want it… Because I don’t want that kind of suffering I had to endure when I was growing up. If it’s too hard then I don’t want it.

Which is absolutely strange because I’ve always chosen the hard path.

I could have chosen to do humanities and the arts and be a teacher like I always wanted to but no, I had to choose medicine and a life with an 80-hour work week (not that being a teacher isn’t hard- it is my most admired profession); I could have chosen to pick up a hobby like recreational swimming or jogging but I had to pick triathlon; I could have decided to spend my holidays at safer and more comfortable places but no, I had to go to places with riots or earthquakes or extreme conditions… Not because of nobility, mind you, but honestly because… there is something inside that longs for something more, something greater, something deeper, something that brings me closer to suffering and pain and hence joy and things divine later.

So it puzzles me, that this time, I am so adverse to this… supposed hardship.

Maybe it’s because it’s what I grew up seeing. And I don’t want that kind of story for myself.

Suddenly, I lost focus on God and put my eyes on the winds and waved around me, realizing how crazy this whole thing is, how little we will have, how little certainty we will have about our future… And I just wanted to give up. Give up, back up and back off.

If I were alone by myself, I would always be daddy’s little girl staying under his roof under his care, never needing to venture out. But life beckons me, this changes everything and I’m just, so scared.

A part of me just wants to stay where I am, or better still, swim back to shore. A part of me wants to plan my career independently, calculate and work everything back to front and inside-out. A part of me just wants to hold on to what once was, what still is, because I don’t know what it is that is going to be.

A part of me just wants some quiet time because I can’t figure any of this out, and thinking any more about this makes me feel like sinking.

Yet, in spite of all this, in spite of all my fears and unbelief and stubborness, I know something beckons and challenges me:

The future is scary, but I suppose, we can’t keep running back to the past just because it’s familiar. It’s tempting for sure, and it certainly seems like a good deal to return to where it’s comfortable and beautiful and secure…

… But it’s a mistake.

It’s missing the mark.

It’s letting go of a Hand that helped you walk on water so you could swim frantically back to shore, back to a place at the start which feels safe and secure and protected.

It’s falling short of one’s destiny.

I just need some time.

“God, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

“Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “God, save me!”

Immediately God reached out His hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
– Matthew: 14:28-31