The road thus far…
I’m a wanderer, a nomad, tied to no place in particular, but I am not lost.
I am a sojourner on my journey home.
I still battle discontent and calling.
But more than that?
I long for home.
We scrap and complain and scratch for more…more stuff, more influence, more followers, more comfort, more technology, more clothes, more money, more experiences…and we forget we live in a tent…a tent to be picked up and moved as the Lord calls.
Can we haul it all along?
Will we live for the promise even if we can’t see it?
It is a scary thing to hold your hands open to Christ, to say, “Yes, Lord!”
I fear it.
This, this makes my heart stutter. I’ve known God’s goodness in blessing and pain. I don’t always understand it, I can’t always explain it, but I know, “the nearness of my God is good.”
I’ve heard it said, “God is not safe, but he is good.” But what do you do when you want God to be safe and good?
Oh, sweet home of love and peace
Where pilgrims tired and troubled rest
Into the hope of Zion lean
Where in Jesus’ arms we will fall at last
We walk thankful, open hands and open hearts, to the One who saved us. Our hearts cling to grace so great we cry unabashed tears that we were washed anew, made whole, to finally breathe air so fresh our hearts are made alive.
Across the way, we see the walking dead and our hearts tighten at the sight. They stand stolen in the midst of strange toil. Lost…alone…without a home.
The heart begins to stir and awaken to the beauty and wonder and power of who Jesus really is and when the inward eyes shift and flutter open to a new knowing, the heart is grasped with new affection.
We loosen our grip on all we have, all the world offers to us.
I stand in this legacy of faith. I am one that Abraham was promised. I am reminded in the hall of the faithful saints of the faithfulness of God.
With each step, each star represents a step to be made in faith. Remembering to count His righteous as my own. Trusting not the seen, but the unseen. Seeking the fullness of Him who fills all things.
“…to have the heart of Christ is to look beyond appearances and make decisions of compassion.”
But if I am the only Christ many will know and I dismiss them as a problem, ignore their pain, laugh at their ignorance, shake my head at their foolishness, then am I being a reconciler of the Gospel?
I realize I haven’t a clue…and the tension of this life melding with the other realm and I’m lost. Are we heads or tails? Is this a dream within a dream within a dream? Do I know what I’m doing? What am I even talking about? Is what I’m saying blending into my living?
Sometimes you think you have the answers, when you really just have a tiny piece of the puzzle and have yet to see the full question. That’s where I feel with a lot of this sojourning.
But I know there is grace for the journey.