So this is what it initiated - putting words to my thoughts - my feelings - to Jennifer, and below, my prayer request and prayer...
I keep reading this post. Speaking Alleluia in my moments, my days. I can't shake the uneasy. The unsettled. This house is too big, empty of memories, of laughter. We've had company, family, small group. It still doesn't fit. I'm typing in my room, instead of one of the empty rooms that could be an office. No matter - I'm not inspired to write. No words. No tears. I don't long to be anywhere else, I just don't feel at ease HERE. I'm not sure what to do... Pray? praise? anoint with oil on the door posts? I can only cling to the alleluia that whispers in my soul.
I saw a homeless woman yesterday while stopped at a light. I gave her a donut, although she wasn't asking for anything. I asked if her needs were met, although I don't know what I'd have done if she'd said no. She looked me in the eye as she told me her story, her plan. Who today says that they are "paranoid schizophrenic"? Who admits their brokenness? I wished I had the time to drive her to Nashville to get her meds, to Galveston to see her family. So much more appealing than the quiet of this house.
Whispering alleluia seems only fitting. I don't know what else to do! No words come to write. To sing. To celebrate. Should I pray? Praise? Anoint the door posts with oil? All I can do, I'm doing. Whispering alleluia...(end)
i'm out of sorts. yes. in a no - capital - letter kind of way.
nothing feels like it's me. nothing genuine. nothing real. not at home in my own shoes.
my faith is real. strong.
it feels that the rest of my real life needs to catch up. like i'm wearing rose colored glasses and nothing is as real as my faith. i can't trust any of it.
i don't want to decorate for Christmas. something is missing - but it's LESS - not more. somehow the real was covered up in the remnants of moving boxes and newsprint paper and bubble wrap, and it's not been unpacked yet. i know it's here somewhere, but i can't seem to find it. can't seem to remember what i'm looking for.
i'm grateful for where we are. thankful for this house - not - yet - a - home. i don't long to be anywhere else. no place more. no place feels like home to me.
i feel unsettled.
and perhaps i'm not supposed to feel settled in, even though boxes are unpacked and coats hung in the closets.
perhaps my making memories here has nothing to do with making it feel like home.
i'm not quite sure how to capture that feeling. how to create it. i only know that it's happened on it's own, much sooner than this in the past… but somehow, i've run out of "home" in my heart.
so i'll just keep focusing towards heaven, trusting and KNOWING that THAT is where heaven is. and trusting His timing on when we will all be there.
what a day that will be.
so pray for me? please?
and until then i'll keep praying and encouraging others, right where THEY are…
Lord, You alone are the keeper of my home in heaven. Even if I get comfortable here, please let me always long to be with You more.
I'm reminded of a pastor once who said if we thought heaven contained all the things we loved most here on earth - all the material comforts, all our idols (tv, tech stuff, hobbies, etc) but didn't contain You, would we still go? Or if we knew none of our comforts and idols were there, and we ONLY had You - would we still go? Lord, let me only desire You. Let YOU be my focus. My passion. My contentment.
And bring to pass this feeling of restlessness, only if it's Your will… for if You can use it to draw others closer to You, let me suffer proudly in it. Let me grow into it… and closer to You. Use anything in my life to make me more like You.
Let me love You wholly. Undeterred. Uninterrupted. Not holding anything back.
I am Yours.