Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free
Rolling as a mighty ocean
In its fullness over me

Underneath me, all around me
Is the current of your love
Leading onward, leading homeward
To your glorious rest above

// Oh The Deep, Deep Love of Jesus – S. Francis //

I don’t want to be safe.

That sounds horrible, I know. I don’t mean it in the way you are probably thinking – I truly do not want to be robbed, or kidnapped, or have anything terrible happen to me, I promise. But I don’t want to be safe, not in the way that means I avoid risks.

I want to live a risk-filled life.

Now, once again, don’t misunderstand. Heights aren’t really my thing, I’m kind of a picky eater sometimes, and I’ll probably never try sky diving. But I’m so tired of living a safe, comfortable life.

I want to trade safety for a risk-filled life.

I’m learning lots this summer. I’ve been chasing after Jesus in a way I never have before (and I’m sorry that I keep processing all I’m learning through these blog posts and you are now reading the ramblings of my overflowing heart). This summer has been a season unlike any other in my life. This is a season of change, uncertainty, and loss. Circumstantially, this should be one of the hardest, loneliest, most painful seasons of my life. And on the days I take my eyes off of Jesus, it sometimes feels like that.

But on the days I keep my gaze locked on the face of my Jesus, this has been one of the sweetest seasons of my entire existence and my soul has never felt more safe and at home. It’s been a crazy, beautiful thing.

One thing the Lord is teaching me this summer, is how much I value safety. It ties back into what I wrote about how fear has such an intense grip on my heart. I want to make decisions with calculated outcomes, go places where I have secure plans, and love people who I know will never let me down.

But that’s not quite how life works.

If I only made decisions where the outcomes were 100% certain, I would never make decisions at all and instead be stuck in a crippling cycle of indecision. If I only went places where my plans were secure (and nothing crazy would happen sending me into the most tear-filled five days of my life), I would never leave home. And if I only loved, knowing I would always be secure and loved in return, well, I would be alone.

But, Jesus, sweet friends.

I’m learning that a life spent in constant, intentional communion with Him is the sweetest risk I could ever take. That making decisions that are obedient to what He calls me to do may be hard, but will always grow me to look more like Jesus. That following Him wherever He leads – whether near or far or into the deepest waves – I will always be safe when I listen to the One who speaks and the seas listen. That loving out of the outpouring of love He shows me daily means that I will never run out of love to give.

This summer, I have been overwhelmed by the love of Jesus in a way I never have been before. I have felt secure, safe, and known. But as I’ve learned more about the deep love Jesus has for me, I’ve also become convicted of one thing:

Jesus took a risk loving me.

He went to the cross. Willingly. With no assurance that I would make the decision to choose Him. With no guarantee that I would go wherever He called and follow Him until the end of my days. With no promise that I would ever love Him in return.

He risked everything, withholding nothing, to love me.

And that, that is why I want to live a life of risk. Jesus believed that I was worth the risk, no matter what. He valued me and loved me so much that He went to the cross. Daily, I am surrounded by choices, destinations, and people that carry with them risk. But I don’t want to waste this one precious life being safe. I don’t want to miss out on choosing obedience, following Jesus into the unknown, and loving the beautiful souls Jesus has placed with me on this earth.

I’m learning this summer how much my heart sometimes needs a perspective shift. That choosing thankfulness on the days I feel empty makes my heart full. That seeing beauty in the small things makes bleak days brighter. That holding tightly to the sweet, treasured, precious people the Lord surrounds me with gives me deep assurance and a reminder of His promise of His love. My heart is prone to anxiety and fear, and in this summer of change, it feels like those are my first instincts. But when I lift my eyes from myself to the face of Jesus, it all changes. When I stop looking at the waves, I can clearly see the One who tells them to obey. Anxiety and fear have no place in the presence of my Jesus who calms storms and walks on water. And that changes everything.

I want to chase after that Jesus. I want to know Him better. I want to know His love more deeply. I want to follow Him more faithfully. I want to love with His love with full abandon. And none of those things are “safe” per se, but that’s okay. Slowly, but surely, my soul is learning that living in obedience to Christ and dwelling in His love while loving His people is the absolute safest risk I could ever take.

And that’s the kind of risk I want to take for the rest of my life.