A Life Adrift is a life at risk of becoming lost

​Years ago, I owned a pontoon boat. I'd often drive the boat to the middle of a wide open lake and then turn the boat off. I'd hop overboard and swim a bit, staying close to the boat. Until I'd notice the boat had drifted far away from where I had originally parked.

There was never any damage done. Sometimes it's okay to simply drift until you're ready to put the boat back on course. But if you do that too often - and if you don't really have a course in mind - you run the risk of getting lost.

You run the risk of a life adrift.

A life adrift looks a lot like a life doing what culture says you should do. It looks a lot like what family and friends convinced you you should do. It looks a lot like a life afraid of doing the things you've always felt called to do. It looks a lot like a life feeling unworthy of the life you are capable of living.

A life adrift is a life that looks lost.

I've lived a large portion of my life adrift. That's not the same as a life of regret - I've drifted to and in and out of some places I'm really grateful for. I feel like I've lived a life that God has steadfastly course corrected to some amazing spaces and opportunities.

The course corrections in my life are the greatest evidence I have of a loving God. He's never fully let the boat slip away while I was swimming.

But I know I have put too much burden on God in that regard. I don't think God FEELS overburdened by that as much as I do. But I wonder if God ever wishes he could do less course correcting and more applauding as he watches me steer my boat off to the places he and I both know I was meant to go?

I think running taught me a lot about steering my boat. I picked a race months or a year out in front of me. A race I couldn't possibly run today, but if I followed the course I designed to get me to that race's finish line - I would get there.

If by chance I didn't, it wasn't because I got lost, it was because I abandoned the course. Or, maybe I just picked a bad course to getting there.

Not once, though, in any of those challenging races, did I ever drift to the finish line. I picked the finish line. I picked the course. I steered my way there.

I'm afraid too many of us are adrift in our jobs, in our relationships and in our roles in our communities. We show up to these spaces in our life, but we haven't picked a spot where we want to go with them.

We show up to them, but then we park and swim.

How do you know if you're adrift in an area in your life?

You're adrift in your job if at the end of this day you have no way of knowing if you're closer to where you want to be in your job.

How do you know if you're adrift in a relationship? You're adrift in your relationship if at the end of this day you have no way of knowing if you're closer to having the kind of connection you long to have in that relationship.

How do you know if you're adrift in your community?

You're adrift in your community if at the end of this day you have no way of knowing if you're helping your community move in the direction you'd like to see your community move.

You're adrift in your life if you have no way of knowing how close you are to becoming the person you want to be.

A runner running a marathon - dead tired at mile 13 - totally unsure whether they can take another step or not - is NOT adrift. That runner KNOWS they have 13.2 miles to go. They know exactly where those miles are that they have to travel to become a marathoner.

They know how close they are to becoming a marathoner because they decided they wanted to become one.

How close are you to becoming who you've decided you want to become today? If you don't know the answer, you might be adrift. And if you're adrift, you might be at risk of becoming lost.

I'm grateful for the places I've drifted to in my life, but I'm more determined than I've ever been to get where I know I'm made to be in life.

Maybe that's because I've just never been a big fan of swimming.