This may not be the best blog post of my life; I jump around a bit at parts with weak or no transitions. I write like I think and speak though, and these were my thoughts. Perhaps it isn’t the most eloquent, but it is from the heart.

If my life were to be made into a film, this song would be the theme of this season.

K is expecting her first child, and we’ll just say that the first trimester was rocky, for both of us. A miracle is occurring inside of her womb—a child, being formed just as the Creator intends him or her to be—yet joy is the last thing I’ve naturally been inclined to feel. Instead, I’ve been filled with anxiety and fear and dread. There are so many unknown and uncontrollable factors when it comes to pregnancy, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

The thought of stepping into full recovery doesn’t sit peacefully with me either; it terrifies me. I’m so close, and I’m the only thing really standing in my way. I’m unsure of what recovered life will look like. I’m unsure of who I’ll be. I’m unsure of what I’ll be striving for. I’m unsure of where God will take me. I’m unsure of what comes next.

Two big shifts in my life, happening at once. As K and I talked about last Thursday, my beliefs are the root of my anxiety. My beliefs about what will happen when she’s gone on maternity leave; my beliefs about what living in full recovery will look like. I truly feel that God is calling me to take a blind leap of faith, trusting that my beliefs are not reality because He has something ultimately better in store. I just have to choose to trust Him enough to let Him lead me there.

Reflecting on the situation described in Peace Like a River, which I re-posted recently, I now know how it ends: I gave up my control, and my Savior worked everything out. This was not the first—nor will it be the last—time that this was the case. I think it’s fair to say that “[He’s] never failed, and [he] won’t start now.”

I feel as if right now, I am standing on a telephone pole, exactly like the one I stood on at a summer camp many years ago. Harnessed in and ready to jump, I can either conquer the Leap of Faith or I can climb back down the rungs forming a ladder up the pole. I can trust, leap, and sore—or I can back down and miss out on an incredible, thrilling experience. All I have to do is choose to jump, to jump into a new phase of life, and I’ll be on my way. Standing on the pole is comfortable though; it requires no commitment either way. It was a hard climb to get to the top, but jumping off is the bigger challenge.

Jumping off… into a foreign sky filled with wonders only God can produce. (The somewhat ironic part of this analogy is that if I was literally on top of said telephone pole, I’d have jumped off long ago—I’m a bit of an adrenaline junky.)

“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger, in the presence of My Savior.”

It is my humble cry. It is my aching heart’s longing. It is my hungry spirit’s yearning. As I said, Oceans would be the theme of this season of my life. Oceans are rising, and the Potter is at work on a stubborn piece of clay.

Lord, help me to keep my eyes on You. Knead me until you get your desired outcome.

“In oceans deep, my faith will stand.” Abba Father, help me stand.