Journeying Home

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.

Sunrise

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.



Home.

Comments

  1. "It is, or I am, still alive down in there some place amongst the lists."

    Good.

    I've watched you change through the blog, and have sometimes been concerned. If you learn how to deal with this kind of thing then pass the info to Johanna - she is very much like you in her own way.

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  2. I must say, I sure like that picture you have there. The winding road intrigues me.

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  3. Thanks Jean. I took that picture down by the river very early one morning, when the fog was on the river. It turned out beautifully.

    Toni,
    Amen and I agree. Although she has her own version of doing the same things.
    :)

    This has actually been one of the most frustrating parts of my life, how this blog has developed. If it is an accurate reflection of myself (Which in many respects it just isn't) then I have been changing a lot, and I don't like it at all.

    That just makes me so crazy some days. There was something of depth there that, even now when I go back and read some of it, it encourages me, blesses me. These days its just so much drivel...

    My tone, when tired or frustrated, becomes edgy, and angry. I see more of that here these days than I do of grace and life.

    Sigh.

    I do hope I am headed in the right direction, otherwise the best thing for this space is to shut er down.

    And while I know how to turn off the blog, I don't know how to turn off myself.

    Sorry, that got a little introspective there. It's a good observation Toni. I've seen it too.

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  4. Randall my friend - much of what you just wrote applies to me too. In a way I want to stop the blog because the freedom and depth isn't there, yet it doesn't feel right to close down and walk away - yet. Maybe we'll find life in the old dogs some day yet?

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  5. Well, Jesus was always good at making dead things come alive again.

    So I suppose there is hope for us.

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  6. I liked the comment by Mark Stibbe wen asked why he had remained in the Anglican church. "There is more honour raising the dead than healing the sick". Who knows but we'll see a resurrection process?

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  7. Toni and Randall - common sentiments. Hard to be really honest. Have to be sensitive to those around me that shape my life. A private journal is part of the answer I suppose. And having someone you can communicate with openly in other ways so the stuff inside does not brew into too strong a mess.

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