Just Do It.
starting with a day trip to San Francisco
For me, that phrase will forever be coined by my friend Emily, not Nike.
When she had to miss a flight to see me in California, she bought a bus ticket from the East Coast because she wanted to make it happen. If that doesn’t describe Emily I don’t know what does.
It all started when we read the gospel of Mark together on the cold cement steps in front of her dorm room on humid nights in East Africa. Every night she’d knock on my door and we’d open our Bibles as we sat on the dimly lit concrete.
Mark is my favorite gospel because it is filled with action. You see the kingdom of God taking root in such tangible ways. Demons are cast out. People are healed. Outcasts are restored to the community.
Jesus lives a life of action.
And as Emily put it, “He just does it.”
He’s not at all concerned with the social norms or what people will think of him. He’s not listening to the voices of those around Him about what’s possible. He’s listening to His father.
I am on a flight to San Francisco as I write this.
The last time I was in San Francisco was in 2021, when I took a day trip from Los Angeles with my friend Eden. For those of you who don’t live in California. It’s about a 6 hour drive from LA to San Francisco, 14+ hours there and back with traffic. For all the Midwesterners reading this, that’s like doing a day trip to Chicago. But there was a house church pastor I really wanted to meet, and I just love San Francisco, so we went.
For people who drive a lot maybe that seems doable, but at midnight when I was going 120 mph on the Grapevine trying to keep my eyelids open that had been straining since 3 AM, I realized that I never wanted to do this again.
But even in hindsight, I’m so glad I did. It was that small interaction on that day in San Francisco that led me to what I do now.
I have learned this from Emily. She has lived this by example. And when I “just do it” it leads to some of the greatest testimonies, adventures and moments with God I’ve ever had.
2021 was a crazy year. I shaved my head, almost got arrested by the Mexican police, got my motorcycle license even though I don’t own a motorcycle. I hiked a mountain with snow up to my knees with my tennis shoes, helped my friend rip apart a bus, hiked 120 miles with an almost stranger, and completed a half ironman to raise money for anti-human trafficking, all while seeing God move in ways that amazed me. I lived life free of fear and full of faith, a life of adventure and joy.
Objects in motion tend to stay in motion. I think Newton was onto something that applies to us spiritually too.
In essence, this is the whole reason I started writing. It’s so easy to get stuck in our faith. I don’t know what it is, but often when I come back to America it’s like there’s super glue to my feet. I get tired and I don’t want to talk to my neighbor. I really want to love the poor, but I don’t. I see the life I want to live, the life I know God has paved before me, but I don’t walk on the path.
My life doesn’t always look like it did in 2021. But when I’m obeying God, it’s never boring. It’s only dull when I don’t move. It’s only dull when I get bogged down with doubt and what people will think of me. It’s dull when I let fear stop me from going up to the person signing on the side of the road, or bringing cookies to my neighbor, or offering to pray for the person next to me on the airplane. It’s dull when I try to fit in or live a life free of risk.
I will say this: There’s never been a step of faith I’ve regretted, even if it didn’t go the way I planned.
Someone once told me, “I can’t explain it, but there’s something godly about movement.”
I can’t explain it either, but I find it to be so true.
It’s on airplanes that I’ve had some of my biggest aha moments. It was on the rocks on the Mediterranean Sea that God’s voice was the clearest. It’s when I was alone cleaning the church kitchen day after day after feeding hundreds of people off the street that I’ve experienced joy unspeakable.
I look back on my life and get nostalgic. Each of these little moments of obedience, adventures, and steps of faith have led to a life full of God’s faithfulness.
It’s important to hear God’s voice. It’s important to wait on him. It’s important to make sure we’re not striving or trying to busy ourselves to distract us from our souls.
But when we’re stuck, when we feel like we’re so far from the life of faith that we know is possible, I’ve found I just need to move.
Every Thursday night people gather in my home to experience God. We’re not experts. We haven’t found the perfect format, and some nights are just as mundane as any. We eat, we laugh, we pray, we cry together, and we worship God. We seek Him. And it’s beautiful. I love these people. I love these nights.
It’s beautifully big, profound, lovely, and yet simple.
And for me, it all started with a 14-hour day trip to San Francisco.
I’m convinced big testimonies and breakthrough moments start with seconds of courage to take a small step. I call them “faith journeys.”
They are little (or sometimes big) steps where you walk out of the ordinary for a moment and follow God on an adventure. It could be as simple as going out of your way to help a woman with her groceries, other times it’s hopping on a plane across the world.
I believe little steps of faith add up. Objects in motion really do stay in motion. And somewhere in it all, faith is stretched, grown, awakened, and exercised.
Maybe there’s a step of obedience you’ve known you need to take. Maybe there’s a friend you need to call, a place you need to go, a neighbor you need to reach out to. Or maybe there’s a dream you’ve never taken a step towards, an idea you’ve never entertained, or a job you’ve never applied for.
Don’t take it from me.
Take it from Emily.
Just do it.
For the One,
