Again today, I woke up with no alarms at 6:45 on the dot.

I shook my head and smiled, and thought of how it's no coincidence.

It's just about time to watch the sun rise over the trees here on the lake.

I put on extra layers, grabbed my devo, grabbed my phone, and started to carefully pick my way through the muddy mess of a yard we have here in Georgia. After tiptoeing and sliding a bit, I reached the dock.

Still flooded if only by 5 or so feet, the dock wasn't far, but there was no way I could make the jump.

I thought of myself yesterday morning, standing on these very banks, but catching only a partial view.

I couldn't settle for that this morning... so I braved it. I stepped into the lake, laughed about it, soaked feet, socks, and shoes. Made my way up the narrow steps to the dock's second story and...

Worth it.

My heart was filled with awe for the Father's faithfulness and beauty, again, and for the ways He blesses me. If I had never stepped into the cold lake, I would have missed this. As I took in the view, my soaked feet were the last thing on my mind.

And how often in life, do we need to step into lakes, into times of discomfort and vulnerability, in order to reach the next step, the next solid ground, to partake in the greater things of God?

My semester at CGA is wrapping up, and I'm bracing myself for an exciting summer of travel and mission.

If I stop to take in the variables, to analyze the odds, and to get my bearings now, it'd be like me just standing in the lake, trying to measure how soaked my feet are. There's a lot I can't predict or measure, and I think that's the point. That's the whole point: trust.

If I only focus on the here and now, on my current condition, knowledge, and perspective, I'd be standing on the banks, craning my neck to see the partial view. I would look down at my feet and focus only on the temporary, the seen, the felt.

But in light of eternity, in light of the journey I'm on, I know that there's more beyond what I currently understand. There's so much more. It's a humbling thought, but exciting! There's more to learn, more to see, higher ground than this.

With eyes fixed heavenward, on the everlasting, I can agree with Paul's description of our hardships and uncertainties as "light and momentary troubles" or as I'd like to put it, soaked feet.