'Cause I know my weakness, know my voice,2012 was not an easy year. But why should it have been? And I know my year compared to others wasn't that bad. I'm not complaining. But it was rough. And 2011 wasn't a smooth year either. Again, why should it have bee?
And I believe in grace and choice
And I know perhaps my heart is fast,
But I’ll be born without a mask
I moved from Illinois back to Pennsylvania in May 2011. I left behind a lot of comfort. A good job, a cosy home, great friends, and a clear defined roll in ministry. It was familiar, comfortable, and for lack of better words, pretty much what I always wanted. At least in some regards. But a curious thing started in 2010, the things I thought I wanted began to change. Or become redefined. The comfort of where I was was not comfortable in my spirit.
That's not saying anything about or against any of those things. For those of you who are on a similar journey with me, in following God, know that he doesn't usually let us settle in with comfort, ease, and familiarity for long.
So here I am, a year and a half later and I feel like every step that I've taken since then has been one hammer fall after another. The ringing metal of a blacksmith at his trade echoing through my soul like a pebble falling into a canyon.
I don't want to be anywhere else.
Contrary to what many 'reality' shows, celebrities, movies, and other things tell you. Life is not about living comfortably. At least not if you want to follow Jesus. Oh there will be times of rest, peace, and comfort, but it won't necessarily come from nice things. It generally will come from an exhausting day spent giving of yourself to others. Knowing that His love and hope have been poured into people around you.
Last night on returning from a New Years Eve get together my good friend asked me what my dreams of the future looked like. It was a very good question. One I do tumble about the old noggin frequently. But I've not been asked to put words to it for some time. I'm not satisfied with the response I gave, though I wouldn't say it was inaccurate, but it was a finger painting compared to what I really see in the fully detailed painting in my heart.
She asked what it looked like where I was, who or what was around me. I rambled off a few things about traveling and working/living in various communities around the globe, particularly in Africa and Europe, and a few other things. But when I got home and close my eyes this is what I saw:
I'm sitting on a small stool in a dimly lit room. There are a few other people with me. I can't tell who they are specifically. One of them is family. Be it one of my brothers, my sister, or maybe a wife. Three of the others are people who live in whatever town/village/city we are in. The remaining two are travelers or visitors. I don't know where this place is, but it's not the USA.That's what I see in my future. It's out there and I'm headed towards it. I don't know when or where, but I'm putting one tired foot in front of the other moving towards it.
We are sitting around this smallish room, not crowded, but tight. There are remains of a meal on plates on our laps or tables and the arms of chairs. I'm holing a cup of water. Everyone is tired, dirty, and there are scrapes and bruises on all of us. But we are all smiling and laughing. I am happy. Some one is telling a story and I nearly choke on my water. (If you've been around me while I'm eating or drinking and funny stories are being told, you can easily picture this.)
Whatever we are working on is coming along. There are complications and difficulties. But all endeavors worth time, sweat, and blood have such things. We have every right to be discouraged and frustrated, and there may be some elements of that, but we will tackle the project again tomorrow. And the problems will be overcome. The laughter subsides and well all grow pensive for a moment before the light flickers out and my image fades...I know that I'm at home.
Like Bilbo Baggins, we sometimes rush out the door without our handkerchiefs. Thing is, the journey we are on may not give time for the comforts of a handkerchief. Gandalf wisely replies to Bilbo's query on whether he can promise that Bilbo will make it home:
"No... and if you do, you will not be the same."At first that is too much for Bilbo and he refuses to go. But he knows that he must. And he does. And as soon as he leaves his door he begins to miss that which he was leaving behind. It starts out as a point of weakness. But in time his longing for home, allows him to become empathetic toward his companions lack of a home, and his goal is to help them get one.
Home is behind, the world is ahead...
grace, peace + hope (always hope)
-Jesse
