As I pull away from my little church I can feel the tears run down my face. Tears of sadness and joy. Tears of pain and celebration.
As I sit there next to my dad, the realization hits that next Father’s day I’ll be relying on the embrace of my Heavenly Father instead of my earthly one. I feel my stomach twist in anguish because of what I’m leaving behind and excitement for of what I’m running towards.
As I see my mom’s tears I know that my choice is causing her pain and pride because she knows that this calling is straight from Heaven itself. And there’s unending peace in our waves of grief... I’ve learned that both can be present at the same time.
In Mark 6, Jesus commands those he sends out:
“He charged them to take nothing for their journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in their belts— but to wear sandals and not put on two tunics.”
Mark 6:8-9
Jesus does not want my possessions, my creations, or my money. All he wants is my complete trust, absolute devotion, and unending adoration. I’m learning the absolute reality of not “putting on two tunics” every single day. Sometimes it looks like saying that final goodbye, or crying with the friends that don’t know how to walk through this season with me, or hugging my mom while she realizes this is another “last” thing she will do with me. There is no need of anything or anyone except Jesus himself, not even an extra pair of clothes. For when He calls, He demands our all.
This surrender is difficult, and at times it even seems silly that I leave all of these “good things” behind. But I can say that the joy of seeing His glory, the sweet moments of feeling His peace, and the joy that comes from His strength is worth every single thing I’m leaving. All I desire is for my life to reflect the Glory of my God like Moses’ face after the Lord passed by Him. But desiring that comes with a cost, and every day the cost becomes even greater but even more worth it.
