I came to Georgia with very few expectations. I made the trek across three and a half states because I knew it was what I needed in the next season of my life despite not knowing what it looked like or why it had to be Georgia.
I mean. I really like Texas.
But I came, following the eastward path of open doors laid out before me, not having any idea what He had in store.
It didn’t take long for Him to give me a little hint.
The sky was as blue as ever, a perfect covering for a day of exploration and a weekend out of our dusty border-town home. We had been hiking all day, sweating under the Ugandan sun and clinging to the hope of potential shade that offered a drop in temperature in the dry heat around us. It was a day of peace and serene beauty despite the salt dripping in our eyes and down our backs, competing for a little attention and a much needed breeze.
As the path came to an end, we methodically found our way down the rocks to the edge of the water.
I needed to get out, I needed a breath of fresh air, a moment, something, anything to quiet my racing mind and pounding heart. My emotional swinging outdid any roller coaster and it was time for me to get off the ride and find the nearest bathroom.
The sand was warm beneath my wet bare feet, the grit settling between my toes with each forward step. The mud attempted to contend with the texture, offering the squish and slime to balance it all out as my walk in turn created more of the combination.
My body was tired and sore with my flesh a little cold from the breeze of the coming rains looming in the distant sky above us. Our squad trudged on, as one by one we hopped out of rafts to the safety of land, bypassing the top part of a rapid only known to us as “The Bad Place,” and continuing on until it was safe to drift away again.
“You have a huge call on your life.”
That’s what I heard and it’s what I had heard before. Every bit of me wanted to receive it fully, to welcome it with open arms and a ready heart. But my head kept asking me what it even meant.
What the heck is a calling and what the heck was mine?
Here at CGA we’ve talked about it a lot. We’ve sat in the over-sized chairs and on the shedding tan carpet while giving it a few loose definitions, a tad bit of structure and an entire Monday afternoon to delve into discovering what ours actually is.
the unscripted wing 