Only lately as in the past few days, has it begun to dawn on me how far I have travelled from the place I prefer to live. The place I'll call home.
It is a place of contentment and relative peace, where the stress comes from without, rather than from within.
When it comes from the outside, I can deal with it and return to that space of clarity. When it is from within, I end up running from ghosts and half clear thoughts. Even solitude is difficult when the stress comes from within as I become my own worst enemy.
This year has been so intense, so busy. So many things to try to process and move through, work, school, family, health, discernment, future. The list this year has seemed more intense than any I remember recently.
And the lists have pulled me from home, from the place I am myself, to a place of occasional confusion and doubt, and if I am honest, fear and worry. I feel somewhat homeless, as I wander through these lists of life.
It is not a homelessness from God or even that I feel disconnected from him. For in fact He seems closer these days than many times in the past. No, that tether is secure and provides me with a good level of hope and strength that helps me move through most days.
No, this is just the stuff of life crowding out the horizon. I've been out here with these dang lists so much that I seem to have lost the clear way back to, well back to home.
The other day Lauralea observed that at the end of last summer, and last autumn, I was laughing again. It gave her hope that at least that part of me was still alive someplace down inside.
It is, or I am, still alive down in there some place amongst the lists. And they seem to be parting a bit, clearing just enough so that I am catching glimpses of home again.
It does give me great hope, and occasionally a clear direction to move in. Because it's a place I love to live.