"...you haven't seen nothin' yet!!"

I woke up this morning with a very strong feeling that God is trying to pull me deeper. Seriously, I woke up, and immediately there was a sense of God's voice challenging me to something. And my response? To the great SURPRISE of myself, it was a simple "Ok". Without "what is it?", or "show me something specific", or even "this is probably just my weird dream that I just had", I just simply conceded and started doing everything I could today to just listen, and open myself up wider to whatever it is that God has.
I am moving back to Portland in a week and a half, and I am having mixed emotions about it. The girl I work with is SO sad, and that makes me really sad. It's going to be a lot harder for me than I think I realize to leave her, and to leave everyone here for that matter. But I was reminded today through numerous things, (a book I'm reading, a movie I saw, reading scripture, and most recently a phone convo I had with my mom), that God is challenging me to LET GOOOOO of everything; to absolutely strip down and dive fully into abandonment to my Jesus.
See, technically I'm moving "back" to a place I've been before...but I'm going back to a new life, and as a new person. I believe that God is wanting to show me a very specific vision for my life, and this vision is going to require complete sacrifice of everything I've ever imagined for my life. This is a semi-scary/semi-invigorating thought for me. And I know that He won't show me until I'm willing to jump in with my whole life, soul, heart, and body. He has been preparing me, and until now my growth has been sufficient, but now, now it's different.
Even my good and great and God-centered vision and dreams for my life are at risk right now. Everything He's given me in my life must go. Even going back to Portland, I need to shed every expectation and "what used to be" notion and be fully abandoned to whatever He has next for me. The thing is, we let our emotions govern us so often, and although those are very real and worth facing and listening to at times, even those have become pale in comparison to this deeper and deeper reality of the spiritual realm. It's once we're able to look at everything and everyone we love desperately in this life, and have that all still pale in comparison to the reality of God and HIS voice and HIS vision that we're still being held back from things and purpose He has for us.
I was at a movie tonight and there was a preview for "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" and there was this scene that I swear God spoke to me through! (It could have just been me, but I don't think so). It was Aslan, and he looked at the kids and said "You have come back for a reason, this is where your adventure begins". Looking at that statement I think, "well, ya, but my whole life has been an advenutre", but God is calling me to a deeper one. It's almost like He was like "Oh Brooke, you haven't seen nothin' yet!" :) And that thought makes everything He's calling me to that seems daunting and scary and risky SO worth it! (and I don't even know what those things are yet!) It's a very ALIVE place to be.
I believe He's saying that to all of us! "Oh - place your name here -, you haven't seen nothin' yet!" It just takes us to listen with our souls rather than our over-analyzing brains :)

A good fog

I keep trying to open my eyes wider, thinking somehow that will penetrate the fog around me better. Everywhere I look I see nothing. Sight is my only sense impaired however. I can hear things that tell me this isn't a bad fog...which is funny since I've only ever associated fog with the unknown which usually, to me, equals bad. Think about when you're driving in fog though, it forces you to slow down; to pay very close attention to everything around you so you're ready for anything!
I can't see anything around me, but I can feel, hear, taste...once in a while I'll hear laughter nearby, sometimes I'll smell something amazing, and everytime I face myself a little bit in that direction as best as I know how. One thing that's certain is that my Father is directly next to, over, in front of and behind me. Lately I haven't even really been able to see Him, but the knowledge of His presence has never been stronger. He plants those sounds, those tastes. He knows what can move me in the slightest difference in direction to keep me on track. Sometimes he spins me completely around and I start going in a different direction altogether, still not a clue of where I'll end up.
I've always associated fog with being bad, but it simply means that my plans regarding direction and where to go have literally disappeared, and this is probably the best thing that could ever happen. I can dream, I can work towards something, but if my life is going to be completely submitted to Jesus, then the fog is necessary. It keeps me from getting distracted by the places that simply LOOK good, and it keeps my senses and my direction completely surrendered and sensitive to Jesus. After all, it's when we can't see ahead of us, yet keep going, that we are DIRECTLY in the center of God's will for our lives. Even Jesus had a different opinion on how He wished His life could go, but He ended His prayer with absolute surrender to God's will, “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.” Luke 22:42
I'm hours away from getting on a plane to Nicaragua. I'm excited but this is completely out of my control, I have no other choice but to stretch my hand out in the fog and keep walking forward trusting in my awesome God. I get back and one week later move home to Portland with still not a clue about what I'm going back for, all I know is that is the direction God has shifted me towards.
I keep walking forward, keep surrendering as well as I know how, and keep my hand stretched out to my Father knowing that in less than an instant He's there to grab me when I stumble.
The key is staying expectant and excited in the midst of the thickest fog. Lord let my soul take over, and my fleshly worries and fears be taken away into the fog I walk through.