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The Subtle Adventurer

September 26, 2016


 

At the risk of sounding like an inspirational quote sprawled across a mountain photo on Instagram I’ll say it, I love adventure. (Is this too snarky?) I always have. I always will. I love experiencing new places, hearing languages I don't understand, trying foods that bewilder my taste buds. I like booking flights, meeting new people, open-air markets, and bumpy boda boda rides. I like sitting in airports and watching people shuffle around with their own expectations and motivations for travel. I've followed that urge to....( insert your impressive travels here.)

 

The world is big, diverse and wonderful. I want to see more of it. I want to be in a new place often. I’m drawn to that realization of how small I am when I catch a glimpse of how big our earth is. The smallness that comes over me when I'm just one out of a billion people in a city or standing near a mountain. It’s overwhelming and it’s humbling.

 

But today, I'm here in New Orleans working a 9-5 job. Lately, I'm learning how to embrace a subtler adventure. I'm learning and failing and learning again. I’m learning to press into contentment. I am learning to become deeply familiar with it. Learning to shift my eyes from the “next best thing” to seeing all of the beautiful, tiny details in my daily life. God wants us to see that too. To become more aware of all the ways He is moving around us with every second the day brings.

 

Adventure isn't limited to stamps in a passport. It can be a way of seeing your own city, a way of viewing your daily interactions, a means of embracing the routine, the every day, the ordinary, and the mundane. It is easy to coast through life waiting for the highlights. But it's in between these highlights where most of life happens. I'm learning to embrace those middle spaces, to look for God in those spaces. To be aware that God is present in the conversations I have with my co-workers, in the faces of my neighbors, in the sun setting over Bayou St. John. It's a subtle adventure, but one nonetheless.

 

Pat Conroy said it best, “I would like to walk His southern world, thanking God for oysters and porpoises, praising God for birdsongs and sheet lightning, and seeing God reflected in pools of creek water and the eyes of stray cats. I would like to have talked to yard dogs if they were my friends and fellow travelers along the sun-tortured highways, intoxicated with a love of God…I would like to have seen the world with eyes incapable of anything but wonder, and a tongue fluent only in praise.” I implore you to seek your own subtle adventure.

 

 

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