Here in Boston the cold weather has sunk in, and we’ve fallen from autumn to winter. So long to the days of apple picking, and corn mazes, and pumpkin flavored everything; of flannels and cardigans as outermost layers; of hats and gloves being merely fashion pieces. We watched the foliage explode into vibrant reds and yellows, but they’ve since faded brown and left the trees bare or been replaced by Christmas lights. We now sing songs of white Christmases and it being cold outside as if it were some sort of wonderland. But this is simply a coping mechanism for the horror that waits outside our doors. The brave use skis and skates to mock the winter that assails us; the idealistic bring trees and branches inside to convince themselves that nature isn’t so unkind; but the honest hide away in the warmth of their homes, eating gingerbread, and waiting for spring.

I’ve been back for six months now, and in spite of the mentioned weather situation, my fondness for this city has never been greater. The community I’ve found has brought definition to my ambiguous longing for family. I’ve made amazing friends throughout my life, but during this season I’ve experienced new depths of closeness and vulnerability that has broadened my limited ideas of love. Soon I’ll say goodbye, and fight tears as parts of my heart get torn out. I’m excited to go, but sad to leave. And though I leave, I won’t leave unchanged.

Yes, I’m leaving. If you haven’t heard the story already, ask me to tell it. It’s a quite unfinished one. One that I’m in the midst of, and if it ended today, would not be one worth telling. But because of the hope I have and my confidence in the Author, I’d tell it.

I’m no professional at hearing God’s voice, and I never count out the possibility of getting it wrong. But when you experience God’s character, it rids yourself of the fear of hearing him wrongly. When you know what he’s like, it makes perfect sense to try to follow his voice. And when you understand his heart, you want whatever he has for you.

We have seventy years here. Maybe eighty. Ninety if you’re lucky. But often less. That’s it. So many will spend those years attempting to acquire some sort of comfort. They’ll try to hold on to as much life as possible, knowing all along that it will inevitably be snatched away. The dichotomy is that our fear of losing our life is what keeps us from ever finding it. I want to lose my life in the pursuit of God until I find it. I want to spend these years on God. I want to hear him, and know him, and follow him. Whatever the cost. And I suppose that’s what has led me to where I am now.

There’s a story in the Bible where Jesus is walking on the water in the midst of a storm. He’s strolling on past a boat occupied by his followers. One of them, Peter, sees him and has an astounding response. While the others look on in amazement, Peter calls to Jesus, and asks that Jesus invite him out onto the water, to which Jesus does. At the word “Come,” Peter walks out to him on the water. I wonder at what must have provoked such a request from Peter? Perhaps his desire to follow him? Perhaps his FOMO? Perhaps the fact that walking on water would be awesome? Whatever it was, I feel like I can relate. I’m not satisfied hearing amazing things God has done. Sunsets and rainbows are great, and I love the testimonies of various medical miracles and sightings of angels, but I long for something more. I don’t want to merely be an observer into the actions of God, I want to be a friend and partner in what he’s doing. I want to follow him. I want to jump out of the safety of my boat and walk onto the water. And so I asked him, “Call me out, God. Speak to me and I’ll follow.”

He did.

(Long story. Again, ask me and I’ll tell it to you.)

Come April I will move to the Arab Gulf. I wish I could tell you what exactly I’ll be doing there, but I simply don’t know. I have ideas and personal ambitions, but strategy is not the voice I’m following. I’m going simply out of an intimate “yes” to Jesus. It could have just as easily been China, or The Amazon, or Boston, or California. Location matters little. I imagine that someday I’ll look back and see how it all fits into to a master plan that God has going on. But I don’t need to see it to say yes.

I’ll be going with a team of 9 who have a similar heart to follow God and see his Kingdom come. Practically speaking, I’ll be working full time as a civil engineer. I’ll be spending a large amount of time praying for the city, making friends, and showing them the love of God. God has a dream for that city. Like most other places, there are people there who have never known his love or tasted of his freedom. God wants to change that. And so I’m going to partner with God in making his dreams become realities.

Before heading to the Arab Gulf, I’ll be going to Hawaii with the team. There we’ll learn about the culture, figure out the details of the trip, and ask God for his heart for the area. I won’t be able to share all of what I’m doing on this public website, but if you want more exclusive content, text me, Facebook message me, or send me an email at shawisrael@yahoo.com

I’m knee deep into this story, and my heart pounds harder every time I think about what I’m doing. I’ve made up mind to follow the voice of God as best I can. And you know, maybe I’m wrong. But I feel like this is what he’s saying, and I know that the reward far outweighs the risk. Time will tell how this story ends, but I know the character of the God I’m following, so I look onward with only a joyful expectation.