[Verse]

Winds howl through the narrow lane

But faith lights up the darkened plain

Mile by mile we bravely ride

With God’s goodness as our guide

[Chorus]

Oh we’re finding our way through this wild life

His love shines brighter than the brightest light

When we stumble and fall he holds our hand

Together we’ll find goodness in this land

[Verse 2]

The road may twist and rivers rise

But hope reflects in open skies

Each struggle paints a sacred hue

Life’s a canvas he’s painting

Too

[Chorus]

Oh we’re finding our way through this wild life

His love shines brighter than the brightest light

When we stumble and fall he holds our hand

Together we’ll find goodness in this land

[Bridge]

Through valleys deep through mountains tall

His voice calls soft above it all

No fear can linger no shadow stay

When his grace leads us day by day

[Chorus]

Oh we’re finding our way through this wild life

His love shines brighter than the brightest light

When we stumble and fall he holds our hand

Together we’ll find goodness in this land

Welcome to Finding Our Way

From the transcript...

Hey, be sure to run through those potholes right there. Make me feel at home.

Oh, well.

Takes a son to know the father.

I was reading this morning. For a little bit, I got to read some.

John 1:18, man, that's so good.

And then you pair that with John's gospel words—the one laying on Jesus' bosom.

John, the night before he was betrayed, he's laying on Jesus' chest.

What a picture.

The Son coming from the bosom of the Father, revealing our relationship in him, with the Father.

And here we have John laying on his bosom.

I mean, it's a revelation.

Yes.

Where we come from and where we are.

Yes.

And where we'll forever be.

Yes, that's a beautiful picture.

Just those two verses.

Yes.

In the bosom.

I would say, okay, I'm thinking about Hebrews 2.

“I and the children that you have given me.”

And phraseology that's there.

He's unashamed to call us brother.

The fact that he is identifying with us.

And I think about the scene in Revelation where God himself wipes away all tears.

He's trying to give us language to convey to us the deepest love and the greatest intimacy.

The most tender and safest place.

He's trying to destroy the idea that God's way out there and we're over here.

From the transcript...

In that story of what Jesus does with the woman at the well, about “I don't condemn you, go and sin no more,” somewhere he's striking that full of grace, full of truth person that he is, and of that fullness we have received.

What McDonald was talking about, I think, he was restating that concept.

God forgives us of our sins because that's what love does. It keeps no record of wrong. But his love is so passionate and strong, he can't leave us there. He is saving us from our sins.

Until we come to that place of agreement, we go and sin no more.

And that's what he's raising up—sons that see as he sees.

See Him, we realize… I mean, that's where life is.

Sin is just a seeking satisfaction outside of where true fulfillment is. True life is, yeah.

Being able to see as He sees, we come to understand and are able to make better choices. And we're delivered from our sins.

We represent him, representing him.

I don't know, man. That's some of the stuff I'm coming into reading MacDonald.

No, it's good stuff. He had a way with words. He was kind of like Spurgeon, having a way with words. I mean, he could say something. He had a command of the language.

Well, yeah, both of them.

Well, they were somewhat contemporaries.

Yeah, they were.

I think about what kind of schooling system they had back in that day to produce men that had that command of language and deepness of thought.

From the transcript...

Hit your wiper so I can see.

What you want to see?

I know, but I'd like to look out the window.

I am, but I'm not going to look that way.

Yeah, I think we all get on these journeys following the Lord and trying to figure out what he wants for us and what we want in life and where those two things seem to meet or conflict.

And it's all part of our journey that seems to be, for an individual, something necessary for them to go through to get them where God wants them to be. It may not be necessary for somebody else, but it is for them.

I used to struggle with that—being where God wanted me to be.

One day, it was a revelation.

One day I stopped. I was walking through a door in my house. I stopped in the threshold. I picked my foot up and stomped it.

I said, “Lord, right now, I put my foot down in Jesus. That is where I am, and that is where you want me to be.”

From the transcript...

I'm detecting a little sarcasm. A little? I was trying to put it as heavy as I got it. Yeah, somebody's got it cleaned up now. Oh, you know there is. You ease over here a second. I'll see one. Yeah. A little white oaks there. Man, I'm going to tell you something. Tell me something.

Tell me something good, James.

I've just been realizing afresh how blessed we are. We are blessed. So many ways. So I have a good life. Thank you for having me feel that same way. I do. Only life I have.

Well, I mean… it's a good life.

I got a squirrel right there. I could even tree that one, James.

There's lots of shifting going on in the world. It won't take half a minute. I could pull up a video that would strike fear in us if we let it because of the things going on in the world.

But I am learning—I’m going straight—I am learning just to retreat within Papa's embrace. Rest there. Yeah. Not let the cries of the voices of the world distract me.

Sometimes it can be difficult.

Does that matter?

Yeah, well, I think the temptation's always there, and it can hook you in before sometimes you're maybe even aware that you're being drawn in.

From the transcript...

I’m going to read this out of The Message. Romans 5—just before verses 8, 9, 10, because it sets the tone so beautifully:

“There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged—quite the contrary. We can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit. Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn’t and doesn’t wait for us to get ready. He presented himself for the sacrifice of death when we were far too weak and rebellious to do anything to get ourselves ready.”

That last line just lands, doesn’t it?

He didn’t wait.

Not for improvement. Not for readiness. Not for some turning point where we finally got our act together. He stepped in right at the point of our weakness—right in the middle of it, not on the other side of it.

And that reframes everything.

Because now even the “troubles” Paul talks about aren’t signs that something’s gone wrong—they become places where something is being formed. Not by pressure alone, but by the presence of God in the middle of it. That phrase—“alert expectancy”—it feels like a quiet invitation to live looking for Him, even here.

It reminds me of how James says to “count it all joy,” not because the situation itself is good, but because something deeper is happening in us. And Paul is saying the same thing, but with this added layer: you’re not empty in the process. You’re not barely getting by.

You “can’t round up enough containers” for what God is pouring in.

That’s abundance language. That’s not survival—that’s overflow.

And it all flows from this one truth: Christ acted first.

Before response, before awareness, before anything on our side—He moved toward us. Which means whatever we’re waking up to now isn’t something we’re trying to earn or unlock… it’s something we’re discovering has already been given.

That’s why hope here doesn’t disappoint.

Because it’s not built on our progress—it’s anchored in His initiative.

From the transcript...

All right, this might be good too because I’ve got a star by it:

“The Word through whom all things were made enters into the very fabric of creation—human flesh—to renew it from within.”

We didn’t think much about that. I mean, five years of seminary, growing up in church—we didn’t really sit with the weight of the Incarnation. There wasn’t much meditation on it. If it came up, it was mostly used as proof: He was sinless, He was perfect, the Son of God.

But not much beyond that.

And if I’m honest, the way it was often summarized went something like this: God became a man so He could avoid a sin nature, fulfill the law, and have a body that could die. Almost like the Incarnation was just a necessary step toward the cross—a means to an end.

But when you slow down and really look again… that feels painfully small.

Because what’s being said here—what the apostles are actually seeing—is something far more sweeping, far more intimate. The One through whom all things were made doesn’t just visit creation—He enters into it. Fully. Personally.

Not to stand outside of it and fix it from a distance, but to renew it from within.

That changes everything.

It means the Incarnation isn’t just about qualification for sacrifice—it’s about union. It’s about God stepping into the depths of our humanity, not to bypass it, but to fill it. To heal it at the root. To bring it back into its true life in Him.

I think of how Paul speaks in Colossians—Christ holding all things together—and then that same Christ taking on flesh. It’s as if the One who has always carried creation now carries it from the inside.

And suddenly, the story isn’t just about getting us somewhere else someday—it’s about God meeting us here, in the middle of what we are, and restoring it from the inside out.

There’s something deeply hopeful in that.

It means nothing human is beneath His reach. Nothing in our story is outside His ability to enter, to touch, to renew.

And maybe that’s what was missing before—not the truth that He is sinless or divine, but the wonder that He has drawn near this completely. That He has joined Himself to us, not temporarily, but in a way that reveals our origin and our destiny in Him.

Not just God becoming a man so He could die…

…but God becoming human so humanity could live.