Deep and Wide

I’ve only been back in South Africa for a few days.

Somewhere, miles above the spaces between Houston and Johannesburg, I started feeling like a fish out of water.

Every time I leave, it feels like I have to pull up the most deeply rooted parts of me, slide them through customs, and transplant them with my family and friends in America. I spend a month or so absorbing the ever-changing lives of the people I love there, and then turn back around to do it all over again.

I want to belong everywhere. I want to have forever-stories with everyone. I want to not be transient. I want my presence to matter.

On some days, I want that in the right here, right now, day-to-day kind of way… On some days, I remember I was made with Kingdom gills that weren’t designed to suck in and survive by the few breaths we’re given on this earth.

I came back and celebrated incredible improvements, breakthroughs and Kingdom-comings that have happened here at Ten Thousand Homes. I’m delighted that I’ve been invited into this heavenly sweet spot. I’m blown away by these people and how they love.

I also came back to updates of the places and people where I’ve poured myself into this year...

The Dwaleni feeding has gone wild – fists are flying and chaos reigns as the children are exchanging peace to recreate the broken households they live in.

Elton was dropped back off over the border with his abusive parents.

And Nandi’s gone again.

I felt like my presence and the impact I left stuck like Scotch tape on cement. And like I had to start over. I started gasping, desperate to fill my lungs with something that would stick.

All around me, people keep talking about more. God has shown us that there is tremendous growth ahead for Ten Thousand Homes and for me personally. I shudder and ask how I could possibly be given more when the few things I was entrusted with seem to be worse off.

I wasn’t really asking… I was telling the Father I couldn’t handle more. Couldn’t be trusted with more. Didn’t want more.

And I got the silliest song in my head.

If you happen to be from the Bible Belt or Vacation Bible School culture, you have probably heard it. And now you’ll be humming it all day.

Deep and wide,

Deep and wide,

There’s a fountain flowing deep and wide.

Wide and deep,

Wide and deep,

There’s a fountain flowing wide and deep.

Yeah, that’s pretty much it…. Until your Sunday School teacher gets crunk and you get to add hand motions and replace the words with sound effects.

So, there I was, sitting there with my journal and coffee… trying to have a grown-up temper tantrum at the foot of the throne of the King of Kings… and that song comes to mind.

I never understood the song. What kid does? What does it even mean?

Deep and wide.

I’m afraid of the deep and wide.

I’m afraid that, as I keep going deeper, things still aren’t going to stick. It won’t be authentic. It’ll all change when I leave without ever growing wider.

Wide and deep.

I’m afraid that, if I stretch my arms and my heart wide, there won’t be enough of me to go deep. It won’t be authentic. It’ll be dry and shallow.

There’s a fountain flowing deep and wide.

The Spirit sang louder than a whole church pew of 7-year olds with sno-cone moustaches and missing front teeth.

He reminded me that it’s His fountain, His Living Water that flows deep and wide. His Glory has room for everyone.

He let His Son die so His reach could go deep and wide and eternal. The Holy Spirit came so there’d be enough for everyone, even today.

His resources, His reach, His depth do not run out. Living Water never runs dry, and it’s the only water that will never let me go thirsty again. It’s the only place I really can breathe.

Today I had to let go and repent. I had to come before the Alpha and Omega and say that I didn’t believe, didn’t trust His reach and His room. I thought I had to make room for the deep and the wide in my hands, in my heart and in my lap. And it’s just not in me.

I had to surrender and remember how to live in Living Water. I had to remember it’s not really about me. I had to give thanks for the deep and wide, and for being invited into it.

I gave thanks today that my God gave me the gills to taste and see, to dive deep, and to walk on top.

He invited me to dive into the deep and wide. Not to become it. And he made enough room for everyone.

And that is something to sing about, celebrate, and breathe in deep – no matter what’s happening in the air around me.