Into the Unknown

Photo by Chasinghorizonsphotography

A Contemplation on New Beginnings ( From Post Graduation, 2022)

Where does one begin to think to go when a new season presents itself as a mystery? What happens when one chapter closes only to present the brand new openness of another, without the solid presence of a plan B?

I wondered this when I was preparing to leave Long Beach after my baccalaureate graduation. The possibilities seemed endless, and while I knew I would be leaving to Africa on my first faith adventure that coming summer, I had no idea what God had in store. There was a strange beauty that lingered in this reality, the knowing of the “not knowing” that presented itself as an adventure, an unknown odyssey of sorts that made for excitement and curiosity at the same time it did fear and uncertainty.

photo by ChasingHorizonsphotography

That summer proved itself to be the most monumental of my lifetime, and it was largely because there was a conscious stepping out in faith that required me to sit with the mystery of day-to-day.

Isaiah 30:21 presents this beautiful truth: “And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.”

There is great relief in knowing that we are never left alone in the unknown. 

photo by Chasinghorizonsphotography

The fact that the Father hovers over us with a kind of leading that secures the future no matter how unpredictable it may be or feel is deeply comforting to sit with! 

So, when we are walking into the sea of the unknown, we can rest assured that we aren’t alone. There is another ushering us towards a new chapter that knows exactly what will transpire in this section of life – yes, Jesus Christ the Ultimate Guider knows exactly what road, what turns, what detours that I would be facing in this time after college and further into adulthood. And to be completely honest, even though some of the pit stops were self-inflicted by free-will choices, God was still using my mistakes to reshape the pavement of my future for good. Yes, even the bumpy parts were salvaged for a reason. 

photo by Chasinghorizonsphotography

When Gabi, my dear childhood friend and go-to photographer, took these photos of me walking into the ocean, I deliberately wanted them to point to Jesus as my legs were submerged in water and my hand was shot to the sky. And so, these photos sum up that season of life in 2022, and I look at them now in admiration. Admiration of where I went, where I didn’t go, and where God took me. 

What unknown are you facing in life right now? What does it feel like to be in that space?

Friend, whatever season you find yourself in, I encourage you to embrace the mysteries in this life all while remembering that, as Proverbs 16:9 says, “in their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” Embrace the “not knowing” and the going into unclear waters because you are not walking in them alone. Who knows, it might very well end up being the most transformative time in your life, and Your Father in heaven has a plan for it all.

Keep burning brightly,

Alexis

Sea Desert Cottage

Story by Alexis L. Ragan

Desert Painting

Creative Free-Write from College : L.B. Apartment (Circa 2020-2022)

A Sante-Fe wall texture mirrors that of an uneven mountain ridge, or a stack of forehead wrinkles, a patch of dried oatmeal, a pitted scar; such are the walls of my apartment on Granada. At first, I was afraid to touch them. Something about their bareness made me wary of decorating them at all. But then I looked closer and saw the covered holes and spotty patches. The putty knife marks. Aggressive spackling— And I realized they’ve been touched before. I wondered, do all rented walls carry wounds this hidden?

Similar to these walls was my very texture of my heart before Jesus came in and smoothed over the rough surfaces I kept in secret, before He assured me that He would, without ceasing, "remove the heart of stone from [my] flesh and give [me] a heart of flesh" Ezekiel 11:19. This is, however, no pain-free process.

I slowly trace my fingers over the historical mounds of cream-white plaster, purposely flawed for the eye and jagged to the touch, searching for places my art could claim during my stay here. When my father heard I was looking to animate my walls, he gave me a painting of an unnamed desert that has been in the family for years. He told me he used to look at the painting as a child and think that the flowered shrub in the corner was a pack of mice with pink ears. I squint my eyes and see what he meant.

A winter scene in the rural crisp of dawn— mint bushes splayed out across the frosted ground of snow, or was it salt? Orange crust carved the edge of the bank behind them. Hills, the shade of violet, mauve and orchid, traced the powdery sky.

I hung the painting in my living room, directly across from the Spanish style arched hallway of my kitchen, so that every time I turned the corner, it would be the first thing I saw. I stared at it often while curled up on my blue sleeper sofa and well, I just couldn’t figure it out. Each night it looked like a completely different picture. When the colorful light from my balcony seeped in from the glass block window, I wanted to melt right in.

Words from Jesus emerge when looking at this painting, the time He said, "I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert" and though I know this picture holds no visible evidence of water, if this were a reflection of reality, I am confident it would soon come running clear down the middle of frosted landscape, alive, a saved stream, only because I am attached to the lake of my Savior.

And what about the cactus in the corner? Even though they feel prickly on the outside, they hold an abundance of water to drink from the inside in order to survive. Am I like this plant? The water of the Spirit is my internal lifeline. Life may feel coarse from the outside some days, the holy river is still bubbling strong within me. Even in my driest state, I can rest assured that when I look for the living water, it will be there, waiting to refresh my soul.

Yes, Christ is the deepest sea in my driest desert!

Maybe it was the air so close to sea? Or the cracked coral shower tiles?  The feel of the cold turquoise tablets under my feet on the bathroom floor? Or the montage of bouquets and butterflies resting above my headboard? The oval embellished mirror in the hallway? What about the empty hooks on the ceiling waiting for a low maintenance plant to drape down and just swing? The occasional spiderweb? No, the dusty guitar? Fermenting fragrance from gram in glass bottles? The string attached to the lightbulb in my closet?

Maybe these things made where I lived, a place to live—with every dent in the wall, every painting to ponder at, each memory attached to the beach, while I lived here alone and worked to find God in me. I put my hand on the Bible beside my bed stand and say a prayer of thanks. For as long as I’m here, I’ll make it home.

Picture by ChasingHorizonPhotography

---

© 2024 Vessels of Light

Moving Out Moved My Heart Home

How Living Alone Can Create Sacred Space to Grow Closer to God

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me — Revelation 3:20

A New Tide

Almost three years ago, I uprooted from everything familiar and moved out for the first time into a one bedroom apartment by the Long Beach bay, for the purposes of finishing my bachelors degree in English.

I remember having alternatives to choose from when I was deciding to make this transition. I could have stayed local in that season of life, could have opted in for continued living with my parents while working full-time at the same store down the street, but deep down, I knew something needed to change, and I was prepared to leave home for that to happen.

Looking back, I realize how God made a way for this change no matter how unpredictable it may have felt at the time. I realize how the Lord was blessing me with the possibility to enter into a new opportunity and space to live away from those closest to me to ultimately draw closer to Him. Slowly but surely, I would start to see how moving away not only orchestrated an environmental shift, but one spiritually, in the home of my heart.

Entrance into Kitchen

Waves of Change

Homesickness is real, and uprooting from any location in no easy feat. But it was here, in this dense one-on-one season with Jesus that He had prepared a place for me to return to Him, for me to find His heart for myself, for real, as if for the first time.

This was no overnight process. Rather, a certain breaking and remaking had to take place for me to see what it meant to have a deeply devoted relationship with Jesus; there was some literal breaking too. Two weeks in, I cracked my elbow while rollerskating at night on the boardwalk, a story for another time...

Though fresh and exciting, the first few months settling in were uncomfortable and stung with the bite of a loneliness I was not used to. Everything felt foreign. I remember sitting on the wooden floor with my guitar ( I had no couch yet) trying to articulate through song the drastic shift I was feeling. Words like "change" and "different" were often scribbled throughout my journal pages as the newness of living here became a reality.

Breakfast Nook

Me, Myself, and Jesus

As I soaked in my new surroundings ( Rosie's dog beach was a stride away) and plunged into full time work and school, I was forced to rely on Jesus more than I ever had to before. I loved taking long runs beside the setting sun overlooking the bay, and coming home to cook dinner in my mini kitchen, in peace with Him. Soon, this antique apartment became my upstairs sanctuary. On my knees in the quiet hours of the evening, I started to meet with God about everything. It is a strangely intimate dynamic, the density of His company when living solo. I felt less alone than I have ever felt in my entire life.

Now living alone is perhaps not for all, nor is it forever, but it can be a time when we can grow personally on profound levels. More importantly, it can absolutely create sacred space to grow closer to God.

In truth, there is a world of difference between isolation and solitude. Solitude makes room for a thoughtful and carved out space while isolation tends to a build a colder, more bitter place. Not only did having this apartment enable me to personally find the Lord, but find myself more in process. I would not be who I am today without experiencing these two years, and He knew that all along.

Spanish Archway into Living Room

Time Apart

One of the first observations the Lord made in making man was that it was "not good that the man should be alone”( Genesis 2:18). We are, as God hardwired us, better together hands down. However, there may come seasons in life when the Lord allows for a time apart, time away, from others, in order to shape us independently in those "solitude spaces," and this is a beautiful thing to embrace.

Maybe I hadn't uprooted from home to find independence after all, but rather to grow in deep dependence of Him. He was the one who had intended for our relationship to be rebirthed here all along, rid of familial influence and noise, so I could clearly hear the message that the Lord stirring in my heart for years, "Come Home." It was here that I answered that call like a child and came back to where I belonged.

Ultimately, feeling more at home does not come from finding the dream destination and collecting a certain amount of amenities, though art and accessories certainly bring a warmth to the atmosphere of a house, but rather making room for Jesus in the homes of our hearts, and inviting Him to dine and dwell there, permanently.

Reading Corner

The Next Landscape

I miss that little apartment, my landlord, the many friendly dogs, the coastal cafes, my vibrant street so close to the beach. It holds a great deal of special memories I will always keep close and contemplate often. When I graduated, I moved out, and returned back to my hometown for the time being, changed and anchored to Him. I praise God for our time together out there, the transformation that took place, through thick and thin. It is a season that will always be cherished. Now, I look forward to the next place He will send me!

So friend, If God is leading you somewhere on this earth, and it doesn't necessarily include the company of your family, roommates, or even a partner, it is natural to feel afraid to make this leap. But I want to encourage you to take heart in knowing that this could be a secret opportunity for one of the most transformative adventures of your lifetime to , with the Lord. And wherever you move, know that He will meet you there.

Your sister in Light,

Lexi

Pictures by ChasingHorizonsPhotography

---