For When You Are Called Out of Comfort.

I woke up at 3am to the familiar sound of my alarm, telling me it was time to get up.

I opened my eyes and laid in the darkness of my room, clutching the white comforter that gently wrapped me in its warm grasp. I shut my eyes, made the sign of the Cross, and prayed. The first prayer I prayed was not, “Let’s do this, Lord.” Rather, it was a raw and honest, “Please don’t make me do this” with an added, “but if it is Your Will, let it be done.” I waited there, soaking in this moment of sweet and temporary comfort before I was cast into the depths of newness, uncertainty, the unknown and the uncomfortable. I laid there hoping for a way out—but there was none to be found.

There was a restlessness in my heart as I got out of bed and switched on the light. The Lord had really let me feel the comfort of being home, and yet it was all being taken away as He called me to a new state, a new mission, with few clothes, limited toiletries, and perpetually curly hair since my blow-dryer did not fit (though believe me, I tried). I did not want to leave—I wanted to stay here, in sunny California in the comfort of my home with the people I love most. I was finally just settling in after a long semester in the Ohio Valley, and yet, after a mere 3 weeks home, He was calling me onward once more.

I think for the first time, it hit me: we are not made for comfort. I’ve heard people say those words thousands of times, and I’ve nodded my head in objective agreement. I had never felt them for myself. But right here, right now, in the tension between comfort and mission, He was calling me to choose Him—and that meant rejecting comfort.

I could have let the suitcase that would not zip stop me. I could have let the freeway traffic bring me to turn back home. I could have let the anxiety within my heart be an unmovable obstacle. But for some reason, He was making it very clear to me that I was going to Wisconsin, to serve in the Diocese of Superior, and there was nothing that was going to prevent that from happening. His will was going to be done and I was not going to stop it.

He reminded me, Let not your heart be troubled or afraid. I am sending the Comforter of all comfort. I am filling you with power from on high—with power that is your inheritance. (John 14-16).

And with this, I crawled out of bed, made my way to the shower and let the warm water wash over me as I prayed over and over, “Come Holy Spirit—make me brave.” I got dressed, laid myself on top of my suitcase to zip it, grabbed my backpack, kissed my Dad and brother goodbye, got in the car with my Mom and sister, and took the 405 all the way to LAX at 4am. A tear rolled down my cheek, as my frustrated little heart begged Him to be my Comfort.

As a sign of His fidelity, He put the only 2 open seats on the whole plane right next to me. He gave me an opportunity to rest and pray and lean into Him in this time of discomfort. Over and over He repeated, “Baby, I got you.”

Finally, as the engine roared and the little white airplane carried me into the atmosphere, I was able to breathe in and say, “Jesus, I am trusting in You.”

I’m not sure why He calls us to things so out of our comfort zones, but I think that in the midst of all this, He takes us back to Gethsemane where He too prayed, “Father, if it be Your Will, let this cup pass from Me, yet not My Will but Yours be done.” Jesus was never comfortable—the Son of Man had nowhere to rest His Head. The apostles were never comfortable—they fought for the One they Loved until being put to a painful death. Our Mother was never comfortable—she watched her only begotten Son be treated with utmost cruelty only to watch Him struggle to breathe upon the Cross.

If then, we desire to serve Him boldly as these once did, why should we be comfortable?

I think great growth happens in the most uncomfortable situations when the only option is to stop resisting and to trust in the Maker of the Heavens. So when He calls you to this type of discomfort, my advice to you is to cling to Him with all that is within you, to crawl out of the comfortable bed that holds you, and to serve Him joyfully because that is exactly what you were made to do. It is what He needs most from you.

It is time to spread the Gospel. Remember that it is He who will provide you the grace and strength to do so. Be not troubled nor afraid—surrender your heart to His gentle and convicting Hands, and open your soul to receive the Comforter. He will not leave you orphan.

Faithful and true, steadfast and merciful, Comforter, Consoler, is the God whom we serve.

Claim Him who is your Eternal Comfort and cast your cares on Him, for He cares for you (1 Peter 5:7).