I’m sitting at my desk, looking out the window at a full-blown, Minnesota blizzard. Putting that out of mind, because if I dwell on it, I’ll fall into grave depression, especially considering the fact that three weeks ago I was sitting on a perfect beach under a hot sun in St. Lucia. Our trip was great. Just what we needed. It was adventurous, to the point of some dangerous, insane moments on back “roads” (not recommended–or rather, strictly forbidden–for tourists). Yet it also full of relaxation. Time-free days. A complete step away from reality. A pause from opposite schedules, stress, and this endless winter. Now we are home, and again immersed in routine.
There are many things I’ve been thinking, and wanting to write about. But as I sit here, my mind feels blank. I’m in the midst of transition, caught in betwixt and between design work for B*SPOKE and strategy work for my church, knowing the direction I’m heading in, but unable really to move closer to the one while the other still has a hold on me. There are other things in my life, too, that feel suspended. Frozen in time and place. Stuck. I am craving a clear direction from the Lord, but he seems silent.
As I was flying home from our trip, I was listening to a song, and a lyric caught my attention… “you were made for abandoned wholeheartedness”. It awakened something in me, a strong, intense desire to be utterly abandoned in all I do. Both feet in, holding nothing back. I want this abandonment in my relationship with Christ, in my marriage, in my work. I don’t want to dabble anymore. I want to know my purpose and calling and lose myself in it. The very idea of abandonment involves LEAVING everything for something greater. What does it look like to be abandoned to the Lord? What does it look like to be wholehearted in marriage? In work? In friendships? I think it involves a death of self. It involves losing your own desires, and coming alive to a greater cause or calling or purpose or person. How do I get there? How do I lose myself, knowing that I will actually find myself on the other side if I’m losing myself to the one who made me, knows me, has my days written in a book? These are the questions I’ve been pondering, the things that have been aching within me.
I’ve been reading a steady stream of C. S. Lewis lately, and his commentary on heaven and eternity has also awakened something in me. This longing for home that is almost palpable, and this strong sense that home is not here, and never will be HERE. Have I mentioned the other tattoo I got? I don’t recall now. It’s on my arm, just above the dots, and it says “not yet home”. This is a theme for me, the idea that we are just passing through this earth. Our stay is momentary, and then we will be home. TRULY home.
Separately and on an unrelated note, I made a list today of the things I’m looking forward to this summer. I could almost taste it as I penned the list in the back of a notebook. Some things to dream of on this very snowy day… kayaking, biking, baseball games, barbecues, bare feet, boating, sunrise, mom’s garden, flowers in the window-boxes, waking up early, fresh foods, farmer’s market, Saturday brunches, lake cabin, camp, concerts, jean shorts, swimsuits and wet hair, warm sun on tan skin.