Uncharted Waters: the Song Behind the Blog

For as many years as my memory recalls, I have felt most alive when doing one of two things: singing and writing. Thus, as the dream I have had for many years of starting a blog unfolded, it was no surprise that the inspiration and vision behind the blog came from a song I had written and recorded almost four years earlier. As a means of introducing my readers to both the vision and the person behind these writings, I would like to share the story, lyrics, and recording of Uncharted Waters.

It was the summer after my third year in the music program at Trinity Western University. I had recently moved out of my comfortable campus apartment into a temporary communal housing arrangement while I worked my way through an intense three-week summer course. I had exchanged the supportive companionship of three close Catholic friends for a roommate with whom I struggled to communicate and whose sleep schedule was radically different than my own. Unexpectedly, I was presented with the opportunity to apply for a job that would involve living out of province with extended family for the summer. One of my closest friends called me to announce her engagement. Another was wrestling with the possibility of converting to Catholicism, and we were engaged in frequent conversation on the subject.

Each of these circumstances had at least one of two things in common: challenge and the possibility of change. It was these common threads that threatened to poke holes in the carefully constructed façade of my favourite comfort zone: predictability. Although this probably sounds like an overly-dramatic assessment of the situation, my then 21-year old self was strongly averse to change, struggled with anxiety when facing situations that were out of my control, and spent more time than the average person trying to decide what to eat for breakfast each morning. Suffice to say I was feeling slightly overwhelmed.

Perhaps resulting from the combination of my emotional turmoil and the philosophical underpinnings of the course I was taking, the lyrics for "Uncharted Waters" practically wrote themselves. It is a difficult thing to explain to someone who is never composed music or created a piece of art, but there are creations that an artist has to work for and then there are ones that are given as a gift. There have been only a few songs that I can recall writing which seemed to come into existence with very little effort on my part. Uncharted Waters was one of them. A melodic theme (with the lyrics included) formed quickly and unexpectedly in my mind, and once I started to write it down the rest of the song followed easily, like a river that has been released from the confines of a dam.

During a particularly busy semester a few months later, I was taking an Intro to Digital Recording course in which we were given the option to write and record an original song. With the foresight that I would not be able to find time (or mental capacity) in the midst of my heavy course load to write a new song, I decided to record and produce "Uncharted Waters." With the guidance of our lab TA and the generosity of a friend who played violin (and willingly improvised to my unorthodox chord progressions), the recording I am sharing with you now came into being. It is by no means perfect or professional in form, and there are many things I would change if given the chance. However, I am grateful to have the song memorialized in this way, as I doubt it would have provided nearly as much fodder for creative inspiration now if I had not spent so much time working on it during that fall semester of my senior year.

Interspersed into the lyrics below, I will share short commentary on what the text means to me, how it relates to my faith journey, and how it connects to the theme of this blog. I invite you to share your thoughts or reflections in the comments section below. It always interests me to hear different takes/interpretations on song lyrics. And if you know anyone who does professional studio recording and would be willing to take on a start up project (to improve upon my amateur mixing and producing skills), don’t hesitate to direct them right on over to my contact page. Only kidding….sort of 😉.

Click here to listen to "Uncharted Waters"

Verse 1

A simple life, that’s what I longed for

I feared the day adventure would knock upon my door

See, Joan of Arc, well she was brave

Jesus won victory o’er the grave

But then, he’s God

And I’m just me

I have never been fond of change. Facing unknown situations has historically struck terror into my chest. While it is true that when challenges are presented to me I tend to rise to the occasion (often out of a misguided desire to prove myself), the process is usually wrought with doubts and comparisons. Part of the inspiration behind this blog was a desire to explore and share the grace that I've received in being able to overcome some of this fear of adventure through the years, which is a direct result of having a better understanding of what it means to live by faith in God’s strength rather than my own. You can read more of my reflection on the theme of adventure here.

Your call to greatness plants its seed

I long to dig it up and throw it to the sea

Let it drown amidst the waves

‘Cause I don’t want to hear you say

It’s time to leave

Leave everything

One of my favourite quotes by Pope Benedict XVI strikes at the heart of this verse: “The world offers you comfort. But you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness.” This is the great appeal of the lives of the early Christians and Saints throughout history. In these stories we encounter real men and women who were on fire for God and lived radically bold lives, where love and self-sacrifice were at the center of all they did. And yet this call to give up comfort for the sake of the gospel, which sounds so romantic and enticing in the lives of these witnesses, is in reality a harsh call that is difficult to live out. Especially when it means giving up everything (as the disciples and Saints did) to follow Christ’s call.

Chorus

I ain’t got courage like Columbus

I’m sure no Barnabas or Paul

Sometimes I’m tempted to flee like Jonah

So I don’t have to heed the call

Oh Lord, believe me

I know you need me

But my stubborn heart has got me chained

To places I call home

Sailing through uncharted waters

Requires a strength I’ve never known

Oh Lord, please teach me

To follow when you lead me

Into the unknown (x2)

The chorus of this song was the first part that I wrote. The lyrics reflected the interior conflicts I was experiencing (and have experienced many times before and since) which left me feeling torn between the comfort of familiarity and the calling to step outside of my safe boundaries to share God’s love in new ways. Like the apostles who immediately left their nets when they heard Jesus’ call, there are times when I am ready to drop everything in order to follow where God’s Spirit leads. And yet, how well I can relate to St. Paul’s lament: the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Though my earnest desire is for the adventure of spiritual growth and evangelization, there is a strong inclination in me to avoid all risk, danger, uncertain outcomes, change, and, well, anything that I don’t feel “ready” for. But then, who of us is ever “ready” for the mission God is calling us to? He is waiting for us to recognize our weakness, our inability to do this on our own strength, so that his grace can intervene.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9

Verse 2

You steal my comfort, wound my pride

I ought to thank you, but instead I’m terrified

‘Cause I know you want everything

I’m your beloved, you’re my King

And I can’t hide from your plans for me

Anyone who has spent time immersed in Scripture or the lives of the early Christians and Saints throughout history quickly realizes that the fullness of Christian living necessarily involves giving up anything that draws us away from the heart of God. This includes excessive comforts that dull our spiritual senses, inordinate attachments to worldly pleasures, sin, etc. The natural human reactions to the pain of detachment from these idols that we so desperately cling to often involves fear, anger, and a desire to run away from the only thing that can fill the emptiness that is left behind: living a life fully surrendered to a God who loves us infinitely better than we could ever love ourselves.

Verse 3

Peter denied, Judas betrayed

The world was changed when Mary’s humble heart obeyed

Please tell me God, which one is me?

I long to serve, but I’m too weak

To bear this cross

To bear your cross

There is a line from "Unfolding" by Audrey Assad where she asks the question “am I a lost little lamb or a wolf in sheep’s clothing?” (c.f. Matt 7:15). This has always struck me as highlighting the two paths that the human heart can choose when it comes to our relationship with God. The first is the path of surrender, one where we accept our human condition with all its weakness and vulnerability and allow God to love, protect, and lead us. The second path is one where we allow our woundedness and brokenness to harden our hearts against God to the point of denial and betrayal. We all have the capacity to respond positively or negatively to God’s invitation to participate in the work of salvation, to build his kingdom here on earth. We have free will, just as Peter, Judas, and Mary did, with which we can choose to think and act for or against God. This is the great tension of human existence. We are often in a state of conflict between our desire to serve God and our desire to avoid the pain and weight of the cross.

(to chorus)

Bridge

I know that somewhere beyond the shore

There lies a soul who needs your light

And I’d love to be the one you send

But I’m frozen with fright

I’ve never let it go completely

Thrown myself into this night

Maybe now, now’s the time

Ultimately, the mission given to every baptized Christian is go out into the world and proclaim the good news of salvation. Sharing the truth and joy of the gospel, and revealing the mercy and love of God to souls who are struggling to find hope and meaning in life, is an immense privilege. And yet, more times than I can count, I have felt paralyzed when presented with the opportunity to witness to this hope that I myself have found. The world can be very harsh to those who follow Christ, and openly speaking and living the truth of the gospel will inevitably provoke hostility and persecution (Jesus himself noted as much). Therefore, when I do work up the courage to take risks for the sake of the gospel, I often do so cautiously, aware that I don’t want to completely give up my sense of control of my life or the situation at hand. And yet my soul longs for something more than half-hearted commitment. It longs for the freedom of complete abandonment to the movement of the Spirit of God.

Final Chorus

‘Cause though I ain’t got courage like Columbus

And I’m no Barnabas or Paul

When I’m tempted to flee to like Jonah,

I will listen for your call

For you have shown me

That you will lead me

So take this stubborn heart

That tries to tell me my life is my own

Teach it to be more like yours until

Your will is all I know

Oh Lord, please free me

To follow when you lead me

Into the unknown (x2)

God is faithful, compassionate, and patient. Even though I turn away a hundred times he will continue to offer me the grace to return to him and the strength I need to continue walking the path he has called me to walk. I am continually learning more about what it means to seek God’s voice amidst the noise and chaos of the world. For truly it is only when I seek him out that I find the courage and confidence I need to sail boldly upon the uncharted, unpredictable waters of a mission-driven life.