Longing

I have a little bit more...

I've thought a lot about full disclosure. I want you to know that. I mean, it's a dangerous thing sometimes because, well, we are changing people. I am no exception to that. I change and most often, only a short while after my mouth has made a declaration. Change is a dangerous thing when combined with a mouth that likes to figure its brain out while in motion. And I don't mean to give change a bad name. Quite honestly I have come to a point in life where I look for change because stagnancy makes me feel slow of thought and signals that something is missing. It's not that I feel the need to disrupt life to safe-guard against staleness, its just that when change is happening, I feel like God is offering me this blessing. Like He's saying "See, I haven't left you where you are. I am dynamic and a master developer and you will not be subject to wallowing in sameness. I love you way too much for that." I think I'm digressing a bit, but I want you to know that I do know the danger in full disclosure because when I wake up tomorrow I might want to say something different instead. But I can't help it. I love the idea of conversation. I love the thought that you are part of my change. Part of my self-discovery. Part of the conversation that moves me from here to there. Part of the love spent extravagantly on me by my Creator. So here goes a bit of out loud thinking that has raged and whispered in my head.

I miss home. I mean, terribly sometimes. This weekend I really missed home. I re-read comments on the blog and emails from you. They were a beautiful confluence of nostalgia and encouragement. I drank them in. I could hear your voices when I read them. I mean really, I could. It quickened my heart and both affirmed my call to be here, and reminded me that someday I would not be here anymore. I read a friend's blog who's in Thailand and he talked about a similar thing. He said that he was homesick and sorrowed by how much he missed his friends and family. And yet, he went on to say that he was cheered by the knowledge that God has assured us that not one of us is home yet but that our homecoming will indeed be a celebration. I listened to MLK saying "...I just want to do God's will..." and thought, me too. But still I was sad. I read wonderful books (finished one and started another) and thought, "but really Lord, do you need me here?"

I think what started it all was this wonderful, incredible, selfless group of doctors and nurses that we had here all this week. They worked from sunup to sundown literally giving sight to the blind, healing the sick, and caring for those who so desperately needed it. I could have wept at the wonderfulness of their gift and at obvious awareness they had that it was not them but God working through them that brought health and wholeness to their patients. They were from South Dakota. They felt like home. Then, they went home. And I wondered if I could fit in their suitcases and if they would notice. The big trigger though, wasn't that they were Americans, it was that I put together a slideshow of facts about the Dominican Republic and Barahona for them. I didn't know any of the facts I put in it until I researched them and wrote them down. The whole time I kept thinking, I know all of this stuff about Seattle. I pictured roads, neighborhoods, people, places, smells, landmarks, days passed with you and days passed without you. I felt nostalgic to my core.

It isn't empty phrasing to say that I love it here though. I know that I am playing the part of unformed clay in the hands of the Potter. I have a longtime friend and fishing mentor that would often ask my sister, when we were fishing with him, "Are you where you want to be?" He of course was referring to the place on the lake, but I can't help but answer Jim now, "Yes, I am where I want to be. God has called me and I have responded and so I am where I want to be."