I’ve often wondered what went through the minds of those who were explorers: David Livingstone, Ernest Shackleton, Lewis & Clark.

What was it like for them to plan their trip, predict the necessary supplies and embark on their journey not knowing what they would encounter?  Or what was it like for them to set off each morning not knowing what would be on the other side of the mountain?  What influenced their decision to cut a path through the forest or follow a river downstream?  More importantly what was the inner drive that motivated them to undertake what most people would have considered a foolish endeavour?

There are times I identify with these explorers.  Sometimes, I can feel their sense of adventure and excitement.  Other times, I imagine their apprehension.  But, most often, I relate to what I think drove them in their relentless pursuit of discovery.

Deep inside I have a conviction that there is more – a tangible ‘more’ that taps into the abundance of life Jesus promised.  This awareness of what God has made available drives me, compels me, pulls me to pursue him.  The irony is, I know this destination exceeds what I can imagine yet I have a clear, spirit-shaped sense of what it looks like.

With a confidence from the little I’ve experienced, I can almost see the blue-print and set out a faint shape of what the ‘more’ looks like.  But because the destination is, as yet, unseen I often feel my search requires laboriously cutting through vines and thick under-brush in the manner of the early explorers.

Undeterred by the struggle, the hunger in my spirit drives me on. It awakens my senses and I clear a path toward him.  I smell the fragrance of his presence; feel the gentle breeze of his whisper; hear the stillness of his voice and recall the goodness I have tasted; so I pursue.

Most have put down roots in the long-cleared settlements. Having no desire to explore seeming uncharted areas, their voices rise in my direction, “There’s nothing more to be discovered”, “Why put yourself at risk?”, “But we’ve formed a settlement that’s big enough for everyone”.   Yet I am not satisfied.  There must be more.

I have already made mistakes, taken wrong turns and wrestled with the questions of returning to the settlement.  But my inner longing fuels the compulsion to search, to forge ahead, to risk. There must be more.  I know there is more.  I must have more.

I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.