I like my house, not gonna lie. Nearly nine years ago, my wife and I (less two of our three little rug rats) moved into the home we were going to spend the rest of our lives in. Suburbs, picket fence, 3 kids and a dog. You know, what everyone wants. What everyone dreams of. Until you get a glimpse of God’s dream.
When we decided last fall to begin the process of planting City Community Church in downtown Indianapolis, we had absolutely no desire to leave our home. After all, we can be in the heart of downtown Indy in minutes. Why move? It wasn’t necessary. We know the west side. We grew up here. Our families are here. Everything that makes life “normal” and “predictable” is in our back pocket, and we sure had plenty of of other things destabilizing our quaint, little reality. We didn’t need to move, too. The LaGranges are crazy enough (love you guys), let them do it. We’ll hold the fort down from out here.
That’s usually when God starts to mess with you. Not because He doesn’t want you to be happy, but He definitely knows control is not something you’re qualified to possess. He’s not satisfied with one act of radical obedience, He wants a lifetime commitment to it. We love control, and even though we never really have it, we desperately hang onto the appearance of it. It’s like a security blanket that provides us nothing of real value, but for some reason makes us feel better.
So my wife and I slowly and subtly realized that even though we professed “God, we’ll follow you anywhere,” we had set our feet in concrete and chained ourselves to our current reality like some crazy, Oregonian anti-logging fanatics (if you’re from Oregon my apologies, but you get the picture right?). We said all the right things, but in our minds there were just too many hurdles to jump to actually make something happen.
So we’re changing that. We’re letting go. We’re positioning ourselves to lose control. Honestly, I have no idea what God is going to ask of us. Maybe he’ll let us stay right here (honestly, that’s probably the answer we’re hoping for). All I know is that we have to remove all the barriers that keep Him from owning the decision. We have to stop treating God as if we control Him (an admission we would never openly make but far too often live out). We’re untying the knots, releasing the locks, chiseling our feet from the concrete. And then we’ll just see what happens.
What a way to live.