True refuge

I was recently in a dark place. I was faced with an uncomfortable situation I had never been in before. There was a day I went to the bathroom in search of some silence and solitude; undisrupted time to wrestle with God. What hurt me was that I didn’t understand why God let what happen to me actually happen. And what scared me was that I didn’t know what to do about it. I cried out to God in confusion and fear. And in kindness He responded...by taking me underwater. The sounds around me grew muffled. My breath slowed. I experienced the sensation of floating. It was as if the small bathroom I sat on the floor of became an infinite ocean. It was in that space that I felt His arms wrap around me.

beyond the backline

in this ceaseless sea,

I tread these currents of blue,

swimming in Your mysterious love for me

seagulls above

wind and waves around

the shore ahead

– I am surrounded

by my feet,

You pull me below,

until completely immersed

everything slows

sounds silenced

senses softened

seconds suspended

– I am drowned in perfect peace

wrapped in Your presence

I am hidden in the safety of Your care,

but panic rises and fear sets in:

my lungs seek air

legs restless

arms reaching

bubbles rising

– I am grasping for the surface

but Your grip is unrelenting

like a Father fiercely protecting His

daughter,

so I exchange wrestling for rest

and find that You are teaching me to

breathe underwater

God wasn’t only comforting me; He was teaching me about new depths of His love for me. I am held. I am hidden in the safety of His love. And this was my revelation: I can endure and rejoice in any circumstance because it is His presence that is my hiding place. He is my refuge.

On Tuesday I had a conversation with Oksana (one of the volunteer Youth pastors from America) about this concept of ‘refuge’. In an eerily relatable way, she described her emotional journey adapting to life at LIV from her life in Orange County. Like Oksana, I have felt the tension of my life now vs. my life then. Things like solar power to remain unaffected by loadshedding, an unshared bedroom with aesthetic decorations, free afternoons spent creating art and writing, watching movies and eating takeout with my family on Friday nights, sleeping in on Saturday mornings, having a set bedtime, an infinite variety of ingredients to cook creative meals, and almost-daily Woolworths coffee runs.

I asked Oksana if I could share with you some parts of a personal piece she wrote. She unpacks what the idea of false refuge vs. true refuge means to her.

"We’re tempted to create false refuges for ourselves in many ways— the perfect atmosphere for our devotional time with God, fulfilling relationships, aesthetically pleasing homes/rooms, a detailed 10-year plan, an investment portfolio etc. None of these things are bad or wrong, unless they give us a false sense of security. Unless they become the things to which our ability to be okay in the world are tied.

Allowing God to be our true refuge is an active choice […] Regardless of circumstances and location, we can be secure in God as our refuge. That doesn’t mean life will be simple or comfortable or even safe, but it will be part of God’s story of redemption and restoration of all creation, to eternity."

Oksana’s profound words and God’s gracious encounter with me in the bathroom that day, have helped me contemplate what comfort means to me truly and how it manifests in my life. On the one hand, there are little comforts that help me taste and see that He is good – they are blessings that remind me to enjoy the abundant life He has gifted me with! On the other hand, building my life and sense of peace, contentment and security around these things gives me a false sense of refuge. I am on a journey of learning how to check "which parts of me start to feel like I need [insert whatever here] for life to feel good" (to paraphrase Oksana), or for me to be convinced of His goodness.

I hold this complexity of comfort loosely in my hand, all the while growing deeper in my belief that He is the only constant in my life. I am learning to seek Him for all the comfort and strength I need. And I am also learning to seek Him for Him alone, not simply the things I can receive from Him.

Earlier this week, we had a couple from Canada (who work for the underground church in a Muslim-majority community) come and speak to us about discipleship. They shared their testimony on how they went from a Sunday churchgoing family living in a safe suburb and undisrupted routine, to missionaries who gave up everything to serve and love the Muslim community in a completely different suburb. Becoming missionaries was not what they had envisioned for their lives when they got married. Yet, they left all that was familiar and comfortable to them (their false refuge) for Kingdom work. Since then, the Lord has asked them to pack up, leave and move on multiple occasions. I feel as though to some extent I share this story, too. In a different context and on a smaller scale, I could relate to the restless feelings, uncertain thoughts and inner turmoil the couple described as experiencing the very first time they left home (a place of familiarity, comfort and routine) for the unknown, daunting and challenging. LIV was my first big “leaving”. (Even when I left home for university, there was still some semblance of the familiar and normal).

Curious, I asked the couple if they felt a difference in their spirit from the first time they packed up their lives and embarked on a completely different mission, to the times that followed when God called them to leave behind and move ahead. “The leaving grows easier,” the wife reassured me, “And in leaving, you can anticipate His goodness. You must anticipate His goodness.” I guess there is fear and joy in leaving. And leaving in obedience, I realize from personal experience, is hardest when I have built up false refuges in anything other than His voice, His Word, His presence, His love, and His Great Commission.

Be it underwater or in an underground church, our true refuge is found in Christ alone. Physically, I can live fearlessly and rest peacefully because He is my protection. Spiritually, I don’t need ideal conditions for quiet time, a bulletproof routine or perfect Bible plan to be okay, because He alone is my all-sufficient grace and comfort.

And it is in this space of growth, of adjusting to this leaving, that the lyrics of the worship song Oceans minister most resonantly to me:

You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep my faith will stand.

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 would be made stronger

In the presence of my Saviour.