A Moment of Distrust

I'm going home next weekend, which makes me absolutely ecstatic for a number of reasons. First of all, I get to finally meet the newest addition to my family. Second, I get to see a good friend of mine who I miss so, so much. And third, I just get to be home. I get to be with the people who love me the most for four whole days. Just the thought makes me cry.  

I think I've mentioned that I've been really, really homesick lately. In all honesty, I don't know if I'm homesick or just being a baby. Probably both.

It just dawned on me recently that I can never really go back. I can go home for a long weekend, or I can even move back to my hometown if I want to, but that's as close to going back as I can get. I guess, for the first time, I realized I have to be an adult for the rest of my life. The simplicity of childhood is over, forever. And forever is a really long time.

I have a great life, too. I have a great job, doing what I love with people I enjoy. I live in a Christian Utopia where there are three churches on every corner. I have deep friendships with people all over the state. I have a family that is always there to love and support me. I have everything I could ever want or need.

...So why do I feel like something is missing? Something big. Something important.

I don't know what God is doing in my heart right now, but it feels like complete chaos. He's asking me to trust Him, and I keep saying, "Of course I trust You. You know I trust You," but for some reason that feels like a lie, and I don't know why. I trust Him. I do... Don't I?

I've given every part of my life to Him. If He told me to walk out of my office, get in the car and drive, I would do it. If He told me to stay, I would do it. I just wish He would tell me something. I'm at a point of total surrender, waiting for Him to tell me what He wants... and nothing. Just, "Trust me."

Day 7: The Desire of My Heart

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.” -- Psalm 37:4

It’s amazing how quickly things I once thought were guarantees in my life can be shaken. I wouldn’t consider myself to be an ungrateful person. I believe God has given me a lot, so I do my best to serve Him with what He has given me. But it’s funny how I’ve come to rely on the things He has given me and have, in many ways, come to expect them – health, financial stability, friends and family, safety – when really, none of those things are guaranteed.

Lately God has been reminding me that He never promised to give me any of those things. He never promised to give me a job or a place to live or even food and clothing. He never promised health. He never promised stability. He never promised friendship. He never promised family. As I write those things, the entitled American in me is throwing a toddler-style temper tantrum. I mean, God loves me, right? He promised to take care of me and give me the desires of my heart, right? Yes. He did. He promised to give me the best thing imaginable – Himself.

When I delight myself in the Lord, He becomes the desire of my heart, and that’s one thing He will never deny me. When serving Him becomes the most important thing in my life, everything else becomes circumstantial. Do I need financial stability to serve Him? No. Do I need health to serve Him? No. Do I need to be in a specific place doing a specific thing? No. I only need to be willing to serve Him wherever I am, and follow Him wherever He leads me. Everything else is secondary.

Face Value

Passing lights streak through my vision, but they blur through a kaleidoscope of thoughts. I hear you ask what’s on my mind, but a smile, an elusive shrug, is all the explanation I offer. It’s best we just enjoy the car ride, carry on in conversational tones, and fill in the blanks to “How was your day?” with a funny story, the latest drama, and a rerun of the same old, tired exchanges.

It’s best you glance me over, sum me up, and give me a blanket rating — a Face Value that lands somewhere between one and ten. Because, you’d never admit it, but all you really want is a leggy chick with a pretty face. It’s best you go on believing that you’ve wandered the open highways of my mind, that I’m sweet like peaches in summertime — a simple, southern sweetheart with an accommodating smile and a voice that trails on like an afterthought, a girl you can take home to your mama. You think you want to see my naked mind, to strip back all the complicated layers. But it’s best you never realize you can’t handle the unspoken conversations that linger in the fringes of the girl I secretly love to be.

It’s best you believe I’ve got my daddy’s views on politics, and my mama’s views on religion. When you give voice to your black-and-white thoughts, it’s best you believe I worship every golden pearl that falls from your God-fearing lips. And although contradiction hovers in the corners of my mind, watching intently through the holes in your argument, it’s best I channel my views into a leatherbound book locked securely in a wooden box beneath my bed. It’s not worth the darkening glare, the biting reply. Or worse, the condescending smirk that says: “It’s cute that you believe that.”

As we navigate through crooked streets, I’ll watch the passing scenery and let you interpret my silence through your own clouded expression. And when you drop me off at my front door, it’s best you kiss me goodnight and leave me to wander through my kaleidoscope of thoughts. 

In My Dreams.

In dark of night,

Beneath cotton sheets,

I find my memories of you

Complete.

No shadows hide

Your face from me,

And in you, I find

A sweet reprieve.

But when I wake,

The tears that grace,

In lines they wash,

A child’s face.

I hide beneath

My cotton sheets,

But no comfort do I find

From these.

I plead for sleep

To meet me here,

To meet you in the night

Somewhere.

To touch the face

That in my dreams,

Is comforting, still
To see.

Day 5

My veins are thick and waterlogged in the wake of your storm, and I’ve been wringing your good intentions from the folds of my soggy hands since the night you kissed me on my doorstep and I watched your boots stamp heavy footprints on the rain-soaked sidewalk. Even your tortured reflection that danced — twisting and writhing — in the mirror at your feet, wished it had never met you.

Day 4: My City Is An Island

Sometimes I feel like I’m stranded on a concrete island in a sea of grass. To the East, a full tank of gas will get me to Oklahoma City. To the West, it will get me to Santa Fe. On days like today, my car becomes a vessel of freedom, and my heart becomes a compass, pointing me onward.

It’s not that I’m unhappy here. I have no reason to be unhappy, but for some reason, my happiness feels shallow, like craving a lungful of air but getting a dozen quick, short breaths instead. I need more.

“You’re a battleship in a fishing village,” a man told me once, and I cried because I wanted to believe him so badly. “You reek of fish,” he said.

Lately I've been feeling something I can only describe as homesickness. I want to go home, but I don’t know where home is. I've been praying for God to send me to the place where I can throw down my anchor. He hasn't told me where that is yet, but I have a feeling it's just over the horizon. 

Day 3: Peacemaker

Lately I've been learning to fight my own battles. As a peacemaker by nature, it's not an easy lesson.

I'm an aunt! ...Again :)

My new niece, Hadleigh Kate, entered the world at 3:51 this morning! Does that mean she'll be a morning person? Everyone else gets to be there, except me (boo!), so I've been bombarding my family texts, trying to find out more info and pictures. All I've gotten so far is that she's 5 lbs. 10 oz. and healthy, everything went well, and my fam is hanging out with her now. Lucky!

After a little pestering, my daddy sent me these pictures...

Isn't she precious!? Look at her sweet little cheeks! Can't want to see her in a couple of weeks!

I'll give updates as they come. In the mean time, I'll be at work... working... while everyone else is at the hospital playing with babies. Not jealous at all.