anywhere I will go

Obi-1's very best friend ever turned four this weekend, and who can miss such an important event? So, off we drove, 3+ hours each way, to enjoy a terrific birthday party, loads of fun, and even a double date! Much of the weekend will certainly have to be filled in later.

Sunday morning, we went to our old church before leaving town, and what a sweet time of worship it was. There is just something special about worshipping with people you know really, really, really well - people who've walked with you through births and deaths and pain and joy - and even though our years there were short, we lived a lot of life with those brothers and sisters.

The church has a really cool tradition after communion. The pastor invites all of the children to come up to the front table and sing one last song to the Lord. The congregation joins in and praises and acknowledges our God, who transcends age, season, maturity, and even belief, in a rousing hymn.

I have always loved seeing the various ages of children up in front, singing and wiggling, sometimes dancing or jumping, while the pastor smiles with them and our congregation sings and rejoices. It's such a jubilant way to end a worship service. It's also a scene I loved to watch with my infants in arms, imagining when they'd be old enough to join the other kids. Through the years, I'd observe how other parents craned to watch their child, or stood just feet away, encouraging. I imagined someday that would be us, with our boys growing taller in that front row; eventually they'd be singing along and coming to know all of the words of those beautiful hymns.

And so, with favorite chords ringing from the voices around me, my tears finally spilled over. I had nearly forgotten that weekly tradition, but all of those dreams came back this Sunday, when we realized the boys were old enough to go and they bolted forward with their old friends. I watched as both joined; there in the crowd was Obi-2, with his eyes barely peeking above the table, Obi-1, his chin high enough to see, older kids standing necks, shoulders, and waistlines above, all singing in young exuberance.

Suddenly, I felt like I was watching a dream of deep memories, and all of the emotions brought out by Mother's Day, corporate worship, and an intense sermon careened into each other. Our former pastor - the man who had baptized our youngest son into discipleship - smiled at our little Obi-2, and I relived his proclamation of our family in a covenant relationship with that church and all believers. Here was the pastor who had guided and encouraged us, with the congregation who had loved us and been loved by us, and my children, all singing a vibrant chorus of faith. Suddenly, the words of the hymn hit me with a rush of intensity.

Anywhere with Jesus I will surely go,
Anywhere he leads me in this world below;
Anywhere without him dearest joys would fade;
Anywhere with Jesus I am not afraid.

Anywhere with Jesus I am not alone;
Other friends may fail me, he is still my own;
Though his hand may lead me through the darkest days,
Anywhere with Jesus is a house of praise.

Anywhere with Jesus, e’en the farthest seas,
Telling souls in darkness of salvation free;
Ready as he summons me to walk or stay,
Anywhere with Jesus he will show the way.

Anywhere, I will follow; Anywhere I will go.
Anywhere, with Him beside me, He is there upon His throne
Anywhere, I will follow; Anywhere, I will go
Anywhere, fearing only Him and Him alone.

Anywhere with Jesus I will surely go,
Anywhere he leads me in this world below;
Anywhere without him dearest joys would fade;
Anywhere with Jesus I am not afraid.

As I heard my own voice sing, I cried for all the times I've felt this move wasn't fair. I recalled the months of searching for a new church, and our own struggles in finding our place. The long days and weeks of starting a new office, and how that affects family vacations, weekend projects, and evening conversations in my home. The new friendship that began with an apparent kindred spirit, and abruptly ended weeks later. The weaknesses of my spirit and circumstances feel overwhelming, and sometimes all I want is to go home.

It is so very far from perfect - this faith of mine - and yet it is a real and amazing gift. This whole scene of our children, friends and former pastor served to remind me that Jesus is always with me, always has been, and has promised to always stay. When I feel weakest and stuck in reverse, His strength and encouragement reorients me.

When I sang that chorus through my tears, I was reminded that loneliness and grief are realities of moving away from everything. We feel loss, even of the things we once imagined for ourselves. The song may be jubilant, but it stings from everything and everyone left behind when we move forward in faith. It also proclaims a truth I live out daily - that I am not afraid. I can rest confidently in our Savior's safety and sure of his leadership.