The Island Series: An Introduction
Why Some Lives Flourish, and Others Dry Out
The Trailhead Moment
On my About Me page, I mentioned an early morning encounter I had many years ago:
"During a quiet morning at my kitchen table, I felt God encouraging me to write. I never thought of myself as a writer, but I started journaling. What resulted was a four-year journey that revealed the gap between what I said I believed and how I actually lived."
That journey taught me something surprising. The constant feeling that God was calling me to "something more" was not about doing more. It was about spending more time with Him. Resting more, abiding more, and learning how to walk with God instead of just working for Him.
In the fifteen years since that quiet morning, my ability to rest in Him has continued to mature. I rest at Basecamp and still enjoy following small curiosities at every Trailhead. I am continuing to be challenged to obediently walk the path God sets before me. Sometimes I still feel the urge to do more, but I am learning that the real invitation is not just to be busy. It is to be present, taking one step at a time, one day at a time, with Him.
Just a simple heads-up: my curiosity rarely goes in a straight line. If you read along, you'll see that I like to explore, letting one idea lead to another, often in unanticipated ways. I once thought about adding a section to this site called "Where my curiosity takes the scenic route." That sums up what you can expect here.
About a year ago, a pastor friend asked if I'd explore biblical flourishing with him. He even suggested we write a blog together. A week or two later, I was thinking about the conversation and felt the same nudge I'd felt years earlier at my kitchen table. So, I began reading, studying, and, almost without realizing it, writing again.
My first study focused on the word flourish, which led to others, and to a number of unexpected Trailhead moments - small curiosities that became invitations to walk with God. One of those moments came from an unlikely place.
One day, I was scrolling through the news and found an article about the Atlantic jet stream. The article created a number of (geeky) questions. What causes the jet stream? Why does the wind typically blow west to east? Google led me to other articles about the Coriolis effect, prevailing winds, and why cities like Paris and London are warmer than Montreal, even though they're farther north. I discovered that climate isn't limited to how far you are from the equator. The Gulf Stream and the North Atlantic Drift bring warm ocean air to Western Europe, keeping Paris and London mild. Montreal, on the other hand, is far from the ocean and gets hit with the full force of cold air from the continent. Geography, ocean currents, and wind direction really matter.
Somewhere in that academic rabbit hole, a metaphor began. The climate of the soul depends on things like position, proximity, and posture. Quebec isn't colder because it's farther north—it isn't. It's colder because it's on the wrong side of the jet stream. But how do I write about this without sounding like a meteorologist?
Then came the summit moment.
I was driving home from work and turning onto N. Dixboro Road when the idea came to me almost fully formed: write an allegory. I already had the metaphors—position, proximity, posture. Now I just needed a story, with characters and a setting, to bring those ideas to life.
This site, this essay, and this series are all part of that ongoing journey. The fact that you're reading this shows that God is using it, even in a small way, as part of our common journey.
The Heart Gap
Some days, your spiritual life feels lush - alive, hopeful, and full of God's presence. Other days, it feels dry, brittle, or strangely distant. Same God. Same gospel. Different climate.
That tension led me to write The Island. In the story, an island rises from the unending blue:
"A sanctuary of raw, untamed beauty, where the sheer force of nature was both a constant presence and a profound inspiration."
But not everyone experiences it the same way.
Some villagers stay near the turquoise bay, where warm currents and trade winds bring life. Others go searching for brighter skies on the far side of the island:
"A desire for brighter skies and self-determination would result in a life of deprivation instead of abundance and prosperity."
Some people hide in cold mountain caves, choosing fear instead of warmth.
Same island. Same sun. Same ocean. Different climate.
Jesus told a story like that too: the parable of the Prodigal Son. Two sons. One father. One home. Yet two climates. One son runs far away and starves in a famine. The other stays close but complains outside the house, becoming resentful and joyless.
One is far and famished. One is near and bitter. Same Father. Same feast. Same grace. Different climate.
The Four P’s
While writing The Island, I kept thinking about the parable of the Prodigal Son. The jet stream metaphor started with three words (Position, Proximity, and Posture) but soon a fourth joined: Provision. These four P's are guideposts to understand the climate of the soul. I'll explore each one in more detail in future posts, but here is a first look at how they show up in Luke 15.
"While he was still a long way off, his father saw him… ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." (Luke 15:20)
Position: The embrace doesn't grant position. His identity as his father’s son never changed. His awareness of his sonship did. Flourishing begins when you live from the truth that you are His beloved child. You cannot receive the feast until you trust your place at the table.
"The older brother became angry and refused to go in… 'All these years I've been slaving for you…'" (Luke 15:28–29)
Proximity: The older son remained physically close, but his anger created an emotional distance. Being close is not the same as being connected. We flourish when we are in an abiding relationship with Him.
"When he came to his senses… 'I will set out and go back to my father…'" (Luke 15:17–19)
Posture: The younger son's turning point is not about moving to a new place; it's about changing his posture. He chooses humility, repentance and turns his heart toward the Father. We flourish when our hearts turn in the right direction.
"My son… everything I have is yours." (Luke 15:31)
Provision: The feast is always ready and is always found in our relationship with the Father. It’s not earned. It is received. The real question is whether we will come in and accept it.
These four P's are guideposts for biblical flourishing. They help us see the difference between spiritual drought and abundance, between hiding in caves or living by the bay, and between being almost home and being fully embraced.
Flourishing is not random; it comes from relationship. It is the climate that grows when we live as children, draw near, turn our hearts in the right direction, and receive what the FIn the next few posts, we'll look at each of these four P's—Position, Proximity, Posture, and Provision—through the stories of The Island and the Prodigal Son. After that, we'll dig deeper into what God really means when He says:eper into what God really means when He says:
"I know the plans I have for you… plans to prosper you" (Jer. 29:11).
Your Trailhead Practice This Week
1. Read the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11–32). Let it wash over you without analysis.
2. Read it again, slowly, and think about the Four P's. Where do you notice Position? Where do you see Proximity? Where do you find Posture? Where do you see Provision?
3. Then, read The Island. Let the metaphor help you go deeper into what Scripture has already started in your heart.
Even if you never visit that shoreline, this series is meant for you. Underneath all the imagery is a Father who still runs to meet you "while you are a long way off," and who gently says:
"You are always with Me, and everything I have is yours."
In His Fields, Jon