14 Dec Tales from a Sojourner’s Heart
Empty . . . I sit.
How do you jumpstart a heart that seems to have flat-lined into an abyss of numbness?
Extra pounds sit around my waist showing my coping mechanism of choice.
The one thing I seem to be able to feel is the desire for more food and drink…
Hollow . . . I search inside myself for anything of worth.
Once again I seem to be lying in this valley of dry bones.
I think of the weary journey I have traveled through the scorching wilderness as of late.
I didn’t think it would be that hot or tumultuous.
Yet, the wilderness always is.
Here, I pause to wonder if it is safe yet to dream of the promise land . . .
Moses wondered 40 years.
You, 40 days.
Me, I’m not good at math and haven’t been counting.
I just know I can’t remember the last taste of fresh water on my lips.
Maybe I can and I am just being dramatic.
My heart has a tendency to do that.
Maybe this isn’t the wilderness after all.
Maybe it’s just another day in the life of a sojourner trying to make it home.
I so want to make it home . . .
To have some place real to rest.
To have someone to love me, hug me, and not feel the crushing weight of loneliness,
The seemingly constant companion these days I try to avoid.
Loneliness won’t be welcome when I finally make it home.
I will feel You then.
Be with You then.
See your approving smile . . .
Be overwhelmed by your love for me.
I need to be overwhelmed by You again.
Can I be still long enough in this moment to know once again that you are God?
Can I shut out the screams, the pleas, the blinking lights and just gaze at You?
Be with just You?
I miss You.
I pause to remember . . .
You were the Man of Sorrows
You get how hard this life is.
In this moment, you get the sadness my heart is too numb to feel.
My heart flickers a beat of hope knowing this day too will vanish in the blink of an eye.
I am one day closer to home.
The pain of this day reminds me you endured worse so that I could come home.
I can make it one more day.
After all, You want to be with me today.
I don’t have to do today alone.
Weary . . . this little soldier can pause in this day to rest.
I don’t have to carry the weight of today by myself.
You are here.
And . . . I will make it home.
This sojourner’s journey is not in vain.