My Restlessness

Restless (adj.) - unquiet or uneasy, as a person, the mind, or the heart; unceasingly active; averse to quiet or inaction, as persons.

I think my restlessness started when I was very young. We moved around a lot when I was a child and once you are accustomed to something for 14 years, it becomes a part of who you are. Every two years (sometimes sooner) I feel a type of tugging- a want for less routine, more spontaneity, something new, a purging of all that is old.

My restlessness has led me to do some silly things. I begged my mom to redecorate my bedroom while I was in high school because we had no plans of moving. When I was in college I cut off all of my hair in the quest for something new and different. Sometimes I try out a new style of clothing for a while. It's like a midlife crisis every two years.

My restlessness has also led me to do some other mildly crazier things. Like draining my bank account on a ticket to Hawaii for ten days. And writing an entrance essay for seminary.

Sometimes it's a combination of restlessness, anger, sorrow, the need for freedom - the realization of something small - for me to do the big things that need to be done. Breaking off an engagement. Ending a relationship of almost five years.

I'm afraid my restlessness will leave me alone in this life. If not alone, it certainly has the potential to leave me lonely. In my need for change, I pick everything up and move. I leave the people I love in the search for something to stop my restlessness.

I used to be afraid I would never find the cure to my restlessness.

Then I went to Honduras.

Honduras seemed to settle me. I never felt more physically healthy than when I was in Honduras. Even the things you'd expect from international travel (exhaustion, stomach issues, soreness from more physical work I'm used to) didn't bother me at all.  I have had neck and shoulder issues from being a student for 17 years and sleeping on a thin mat on a concrete floor didn't leave me aching in the morning.

I also couldn't have been happier than I was in Honduras.  I missed talking to my parents and friends, sure; but I don't think I've ever laughed for ten days straight and I was filled with so much joy while I was there.

I felt filled with the Holy Spirit on a moment to moment basis in a way I've never felt before. I could see God in every child's face and every evening worship service.  I felt God's touch every time a six year old held my hand and in the mornings when the weigh of the mist in the mountains was heavy.

I wasn't restless there.

It took me about 4 hours in the country before I felt as if I belonged there. I've never felt so at home. We had something to do every single day and there was a new adventure around the corner of every dirt road. If I ever got bored in Honduras, I was doing something wrong.  There were endless things for me to learn there.

I miss it every day.

I'm no longer afraid that I will never find a cure for my restlessness. I know that God will lead me back to a place like Honduras. I feel the workings of that every day as I sit in class and as I talk to professors and pastors about international mission.

But it's really hard to wait. I'm doing everything I can to convince myself to stay in seminary and finish my degree. But it's so hard when I'm restless here. Especially restless here. I'm comfortable here and I hate being comfortable.

I long for poverty and adventure and challenge and love. I long for the faces of children and laughter surrounding me every day. And I don't know what that means for my future or where I'll be in the world, but I know I won't settle until my life is consumed by it.

Ruin me for the ordinary

This is the prayer I had taped to my rearview mirror for several months this past year. When it finally flew off while my windows were down, I thought maybe it was a sign that I needed to find a new prayer.

What I didn't realize until later was that this prayer, clearly visible to anyone riding in my car and very obnoxious to anyone who drives it, was pushing me toward constant prayer. I would get in my car, read it, and truly mean it every single day. I wanted God to ruin me. I didn't want to be comfortable anymore. I wanted my heart to be broken.

Well, if you know anything about my life this past year, God has done just that. I was uncomfortable, broken, and completely ruined.

But it was so good.

Now that I am starting seminary I am afraid that it is exactly where I am supposed to be. Why should I be afraid of that? Because I don't want to be comfortable. I need to be able to challenge myself. They won't let me take additional classes (yet) and I am afraid that I am going to have a very light schedule for my first semester.

So I have promised myself that if I am bored or even if I am slightly comfortable, I am going to push myself into uncomfortable and ruining situations.

I want my heart to be broken at injustice and cruelty, poverty and prejudice. I want my heart to break for the things that break God's heart. I know what that means. I know it means I am going to hurt. A lot. And I know that ruining me for the ordinary means that I will never be okay with myself in comfortable situations. I will never want an ordinary life. I know that is going to be challenging. But I am so desperate for Jesus that it doesn't matter anymore.

God isn't supposed to be comfortable to be around. My friend has a theory that, as a fallen humanity, we are not able to be naturally close to God. God is so incredibly good compared to us that we can't even fathom it.  That is why when we do things to be closer to God, whether it is turning the other cheek, forgiving over and over again, meditating, or loving people who we don't feel deserve our love- we are uncomfortable.  It doesn't feel good most of the time. Love hurts. Vulnerability hurts. But that is what brings us closer to God.

I need to keep pushing myself toward God. I don't know what that means yet, but I have a feeling that just knowing that it needs to happen is a step in the right direction.

The Way Things Change

I haven't written very much this month. I haven't really missed it and that makes me sad. I have been working hard learning Greek. I only have a few more days until I start class. I have also been packing to move. And all this week people have been trying to say "see you later" when they are really saying "goodbye." It is sad and stressful.

Because this really is the end of part of my life. I am entering a new part, a different part. I don't have anything to truly connect me to this place anymore. I have friends here, but within the next year they will probably be leaving and doing their own next adventures. Ronnie will be moving to South Carolina with me in about four months. Then we will have a new life together.

"The embrace can only be compared with music and with prayer."  -Marcus Aurelius

So in honor of these memories, these goodbyes, and embraces, and dreams, here's some songs I adore. They have been getting me through the past few weeks. I don't think music has to be about Christ to claim that it is worship. I think there is a lot of music that has a purity about it and that is what makes it holy. The Bible doesn't say "there's a time to sing gospel music," it just says there's a time to sing. This is how I have been worshipping God lately...