Coming or Going

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.”

 I bleed thoughts. I bleed words. Veins are small.

Today it feels like one of the major arteries to my heart has been popped.Blood flow has been interrupted forcing me to look inward and acknowledge what the issues is. The truth underneath. The only problem with popping open an artery to find a muse, to write, is it comes with recognizing how deep thoughts and feelings lie within you. The truth is the deepest parts of me ache.

I was told this week during a sewing session that I don’t do anything by halves. I laughed to myself and silently agreed. It’s not the first I’ve heard such a statement. I am 24. I live what some would call an 
adventurous life. I take risks. I do extremes. When I  succeed I experience success in all it’s fullness. When I fail, I fail miserably utterly blowing it.

I live between two continents. I experience new cultures, meet new people that I could have never put on my own radar. I get to do what I feel I’m born to do.

Purpose. Calling. This isn’t some job that I randomly signed up for. It was more a faithful act of obedience, a moment of insane courage, a split second of actually taking God at His word when He says He has plans for my life that trump any of my self made ones. Doing what I do, being who I am, well it isn’t down to me being in the drivers seat. It is completely and utterly because of His grace in my life. When I feel the tug on my heart for the glory quickly I am brought my knees. The highest place in the world is still down at the Lord’s feet. 

Over the whirlwinds of traveling and living in lots of different places, I often hear the question,

“Do you miss home?”

It doesn’t matter which side of the pond I am standing on. Home is a blurred word nowadays. Here or There. Where. I have no clue how to define home. I have no clue where that may be. I can identify with feelings of being settled but home- a location. That is a foreign concept. There is no way to put perimeters around normal, for normal is constantly changing.

I love that I get to do what I do. I count every moment a gift. “Our only birthright in this life is the breath that we take.” Every face I see reflects a new image of God I have not yet encountered. Every person with a story that I am privileged to collide with. These interactions are priceless.

But with the adventure can bring along with it feelings of deep isolation and dislocation. It’s like wandering but there is still a purpose hidden within. It’s like a drifter but still having an aim. A nomad- A member of a people who have no permanent abode and travel from place to place to find fresh pasture for their livestock. A foreigner- A person born in or coming from a country other than one’s own. A stranger or outsider. And the question still lingers, ” Do I miss it back home?” It presses in on me so hard it’s enough to get me parked up in the middle of town sitting at our local cafe.

I sit. As a table. Take a deep breath. Breathing in life in all it’s fullness and equally all of it’s confusion. Thinking through endless blessing and grace but the question is still pushing down on me. In my search for resolve, there is none. I find no such thing, only to be left with more questions.

A foreigner indeed I am. And home runs deeper than a location. My soul and spirit scream at me. The home I am searching for is eternity. The relationship I desire to be in is one without the holes and stains of sin. Yes Jesus made the way for a relationship with God possible but that doesn’t eliminate the human condition. That desire for Oneness. The home I am longing for is not here nor there. It’s with Him. Only when I make my home In Him does this weary head have a place to rest, my crippling fear is eliminated, and my soul can take refuge. I feel the hunger pains for something not present but absent. There are moments of despair for things are not how they should be. As I have written before in joking format, we aren’t in Eden anymore. I say this with more weight this time…….. We are not in Eden anymore.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He also has planted eternity in men’s hearts and minds [a divinely implanted sense of a purpose working through the ages which nothing under the sun but God alone can satisfy], yet so that men cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.“- Ecclesiastes 3:11

I am wondering if feeling of isolation leads to a greater level of intimacy? I am also questioning if feeling homesick or homeless is a bad thing.

I am convinced that it is not. Trusting in Him leads to quiet hope, not bitter resignation.

“Wherever you are, be all there. I have lived the runner painting ahead in worry, pounding back in regrets, terrified to live in the present, because here-time asks me to do the hardest of all: just open wide and receive.”

“Do not let your hearts be troubled (distressed, agitated). You believe in and adhere to and trust in and rely on God; believe in and adhere to and trust in and rely also on Me.In My Father’s house there are many dwelling places (homes). If it were not so, I would have told you; for I am going away to prepare a place for you.And when (if) I go and make ready a place for you, I will come back again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.

I will not leave you as orphans [comfortless, desolate, bereaved, forlorn, helpless]; I will come [back] to you. Just a little while now, and the world will not see Me any more, but you will see Me; because I live, you will live also. At that time [when that day comes] you will know [for yourselves] that I am in My Father, and you [are] in Me, and I [am] in you.

 The person who has My commands and keeps them is the one who [really] loves Me; and whoever [really] loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I [too] will love him and will show (reveal, manifest) Myself to him. [I will let Myself be clearly seen by him and make Myself real to him.]” John 14: 18-21

This entry was published on June 1, 2012 at 7:24 pm and is filed under My Journey. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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