One morning during the CL family vacation, I was penetrated with a profound sense of peace, calm, and beauty as I listened to Jake's presentation on Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and the music that played beforehand. I was at peace with the knowledge that I am loved by Christ, and that I truly belonged with everyone else in the building with me. Even those who are completely different from me. Even those who I didn’t know. I perceived that I didn’t need to be the same as other people, to have similar behaviors, interests, or even thought patterns, to belong with them. I don’t have to do anything to earn my place. I don’t have to deny my “I” and pretend that it is different. To do so is to say, “I don’t like the way you made me, God.” What a preposterous thing to believe! And yet, this is exactly the belief that I endorse when I feel the anxious need to earn my place among His people.

Rather, I just have to simply be. It is only with this awareness and trust that Christ’s love for me, in the present, is sufficient, that I can even hear His voice, feel the magnetic pull of His calling for me.

As the day went on, after we played games, had lunch, and dispersed for a period of free time, I noticed that I’d lost this sense of peace. In the midst of the day’s hustle and bustle, I once again got wrapped up in my worries about what type of person I’m supposed to be.

Later during the vacation, when I was feeling most overwhelmed by self-inflicted pressure, and knowing that I couldn’t stay in my head any longer, I started walking, hoping to encounter someone. And almost immediately afterwards, a friend who I’d only ever talked to a few times ran into me and asked how I was doing. After I replied honestly, she asked if I wanted to talk about it. I disclosed my frustrations and fears regarding my belonging, and she responded not by trying to solve any of my problems, but by reawakening my sense of belonging, even relating that she was struggling with similar difficulties herself thus far on the vacation. I was amazed. Even at this low point of doubt in Christ and my ability to follow Him, He reached down to me, where I was, and brought me back up to Him in this encounter.

Christ is calling me to simply remain with Him. If I can remain with Him, I can belong with others without losing myself to fit in with them. This was proven to me the morning of the Beethoven presentation, the encounter with my friend, and in so many other experiences I’ve had following the life of the Movement and living community with these people.

Interestingly, it was only by embracing my awareness of my dissatisfaction, rather than trying to hide from it and suppress it as I’ve done so many times in the past, that I was able to recognize Christ breaking through to me. But the good news is, the closer I get to Christ and the deeper this relationship becomes, the less tolerable it is for me to ignore my dissatisfaction, and the more faith I have that my dissatisfaction doesn’t have to lead me to despair. Rather, it is given to me by God as an invitation to reorient myself to Him. Much like the mountain in Denise Levertov’s poem "Witness," read for a poetry presentation put on during the vacation, He is there even when hidden behind veils of cloud. Even when veiled by my own inattentiveness. He never gives up on me. And the more I experience this, the easier it is to trust Him.

Derian, Minnesota, USA