I am but two generations removed from my family’s Southern origins. Between my last name and the occasional lilts and drawls in my speech, it’s clear that I am wholly Midwestern. With that identity comes exposure to a vernacular that is simple in delivery, yet rich in context. And, as I navigate the space between faith, race and gender, my roots have given me a roadmap for making meaning.

“God willin’ and the creek don’t rise” is a popular phrase reminiscent of lengthy church services, bobby socks and sweet elders stashing hard candy. In many ways, it’s an expression of hope coupled with acknowledgment of God’s sovereignty.

God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, I’ll take that vacation.

“See you same time next year?” Yeah girl, God willin’ and the creek don’t rise.We’ll find a way.

More than an honest expression of uncertainty, this old school phrase has always piqued my interest. It speaks to our understanding of the natural as it clings to a hope powered by faith. At the same time, it honors God as the Author and Finisher of all things: “If it is God’s Will for me and circumstances allow, I expect this outcome.”  Two conditions. Sounds simple enough.

Yet, as I’ve grown in my faith, I’ve noticed where this phrase falls short. Those factors aren’t as interdependent as they seem. What if the creek is calm, my skills are on point, my finances can support it, my tribe cheers me on – but God doesn’t will it for my life right now? Better yet – what if He places a task or desire on my heart, but I look out on the horizon and the creek is swelling fast? I’ve heard plenty about what to do when God says, “Not yet,” but what happens when the creek rises?

I ask myself this very question as I prepare to dip a toe into the waters of a new year. Suffocated by various predictions of what we can expect of our economy, our political climate and each other in the year ahead, I admit I’ve found it hard to dream. If I set out to pursue what He’s placed on my heart, but the creek is waist-deep, who will bring me back?

2 Thessalonians 2:11 says, “So we keep on praying for you, asking our God to enable you to live a life worthy of his call. May he give you the power to accomplish all the good things your faith prompts you to do.” (NLT)

What a comfort to know that if God is willin’, the height of the creek doesn’t matter. The same God who helped Moses part the sea is willing and able to help us cross our creek for His Glory.

He says in Isaiah 46:4 that he will be our God throughout our lifetime, “… until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.” (NLT)

I see Him doing more than standing on the other side of hardship, beckoning us to paddle to Him across the waves. No, He is “God with us”  – neck-deep in our doubt, our fear and any man-made obstacles that threaten to yank us in the undertow. He is right there, soaked, smiling and ready to carry us along.

Contrary to this classic phrase, our faith is not dependent on the creek. It’s never been about the creek; just the One who longs to help us conquer.

Where is your hope in the midst of the unknown? Is it in the many creeks we’ll have to cross or in He who has called us to cross them?