Where I belong

The moving boxes have been broken down, and all of our belongings have settled into their new homes in new closets and shelves. I step into a lazy rhythm each morning and each night. Minutes are slow here, but days are fast. I turn around and see that three weeks have already come and gone.

Choosing faith over fear is a moment-by-moment battle. Here, the war is different. Time is relentless and apathy weighs me down. Taking hold of my thoughts feels like I'm grabbing at air. I am alone and at times paralyzed when watching my friends -- as if through a window -- continue their lives without me. I question myself because I'm stripped of all the titles I cloaked myself with in California. I spend afternoons running in circles, worried that I won't find a job, worried I won't be a good wife, worried I've lost sight of my calling or vision.

Naked and dizzy, I drag myself back to the cross ashamed. Because though His faithfulness gave me the courage to jump, I had been so distracted by His security, gifts and provisions, that I forgot who He is.

Though His kindness does lead me back to repentance, though His grace and faithfulness sustain me, He is first a good Father and He is God.

He's who I've ever needed, and in Him, I find where I belong.

And the Lord will guide you continually 
and satisfy your desire in scorched places 
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
 like a spring of water,
 whose waters do not fail. (Isaiah 59:2) 

Comments

Popular Posts