Where feet may fail


I’ve been listening to that latest Hillsong song a lot. You know the one. The one that goes on somewhere between 8-12 minutes. And everyone that’s singing is Australian.

OK, it’s the one about oceans and feet failing and being called to step out upon the waters into the great unknown.

I’m a good hour and a half drive from the Atlantic right now, but I feel like you have me ready to jump onto some mighty waves before the ocean reaches optimal summer temperature.

And I’m nervous.

And I’m not ready.

So instead I worry. I worry about taking the wrong step, hopping onto the wrong wave, feet failing. Sinking. Sinking into the great unknown. Where there are probably sharks.

But just like the song says, You are there in the unknown:

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

My faith is like my arm muscles. They don’t become strong unless I put them to use. My faith isn’t going to get stronger if I’m sitting in the safety of the boat. My faith becomes stronger when I actually listen to the call to get out of the boat and step onto the waters.

You didn’t let Peter drown. I know you won’t let me either.

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surround me

You’ve never failed

And you won’t stop now

Help me choose not to waste a single hour of my life worrying about the mystery of my life, because it’s not a mystery to you.

My great unknown is your great known.

So lead me. Call me out from the boat and onto the waters. Wherever that may be. Whatever the temperature. (Preferably with Flipper not Jaws.)

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

Your child,




sleep tourettes


Within the past year I have diagnosed myself with a disorder I call “sleep tourettes.” It is a rare and mysterious disorder that affects its victim within the first hour of sleep in which said victim is aroused from slumber by a spider falling on her face or a large centipede hovering over her bed. The victim jumps up, curses loudly, turns on the lights, and does a dance not unlike those found in dark, strobe lit clubs in European countries with the addition of bedroom duvet covers attempting the worm. In the end, the victim realizes that the bug was, indeed, a dream and her cursing was all for naught.

Fear manifests itself in pretty [#$%]ed up ways.

In my attempts to seek a cure for my disorder, I’ve realized that fear has also weaseled its way into other areas of my life aside from nighttime terrors with more legs than anything living should have. There’s the good fear—the fear that keeps me from walking to the park at dusk via the highway underpass where words written in neon spray paint advertise activities I’d rather not take part in. And then there’s the other fear—the fear that keeps me from speaking truth to a struggling coworker because I’m afraid of how she’ll respond. The fear that keeps me from taking on a certain project or leadership role because I don’t want to fail and let people down. The fear that keeps me from using my gifts because I’m not sure they are that great to begin with. The fear that keeps me from following a nudging from You because I don’t know what the end result will be. The fear that keeps me from stepping from comfortable and content to stretched and challenged.

Fear that ultimately makes me miss out on potential blessings from You.

I guess you really knew what You were doing when you put “Do not afraid” in your Word more than any other phrase. You knew we’d be a people so scared to take a leap of faith we remain still.

The worst way fear can manifest itself is through inaction.

Just as you said to Joshua, you say the same to me: “This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

So why should I be afraid to tell someone Your truth? Why should I be afraid to follow Your will for me? Why should I be afraid of something with more limbs that a living creature should naturally have? You promise to be with me. You promise not to leave me. If I let fear take over and paralyze me, I could lose out on some amazing things You want for me.

And that’s pretty [#$%]ed up.

Your child,