I started this Kisses from Katie book last weekend, having meant to read it months ago but never getting around to it. (It will be number 13 on my 50 Books in 2014, for those of you following along)

It’s reminded me of how much I love red dirt (in Georgia or in Africa..take your pick), and so many other things like this:

“I am Peter. I mess up. I make mistakes. I am far from perfect, and God will use me. God will establish great things through me. 
You are Peter. God already knows that you will make a mess, but His plan for you is great. Go. Feed His sheep.”

I WILL do something great. It’s not a question.

It’s also reminded me that I need to live outside myself much more than I do. It’s been easy to fall back into being stressed over what clothes to wear or whether or not my ideas are heard when I say them.

We have this funny way of seeing suffering or some sort of unbearable pain except that it’s outside of us and someone else is experiencing it and asking God, “What are you going to do about this? Because, surely the God of the Universe and these poor barefoot children wouldn’t stand by and watch such things happen.”
And He says right back to us, “What are YOU going to do about it? Because I have equipped you with the heart, the faith, and the strength to rebuild.”

I sometimes feel like Jesus is just an accessory to my life, rather than a necessity.

I’d like to blame that on the culture of this all-consuming country, but I’m the one making the choices and I see other people who’ve managed to make their way through the muck of online shopping and business casual to do something incredibly beyond themselves. It’s me – easily distracted and easily discouraged by the weight of having too many friends and having too many irons in the fire.

“Simplify,” they say, as if replying to an invitation to spend time with someone with, “I can’t invest in your life or have you invest in mine, even though we both want it, because I’ve chosen others over you and I’ve got to cut somewhere..and you’re it.” I can’t justify that.

But I’m also here: It’s okay for me to stop saying you don’t want in on all this mess because I’m not ashamed of how messy this heart is anymore.
We’re all messy and maybe that’s a reason, too, but really I’m not about comparing my mess to yours. I’ve been too ashamed of mine to share much without feeling like I dragged you into something not worth the time because you probably don’t want in on everything mulling around in this heart of mine, but really God made me a thinker, a noticer, and a lover.
He made my heart, so full of so many people and places and desires to move mountains and oceans – big ones = and climb to the tallest tree, even if it means a skint knee in the process.

He made me a risk-taker -> the one who goes out of their way to do, and is stubborn about walking it out my way.

He opened my eyes a long time ago to everything going on around me and, for the majority of these 24 years under my belt, I’ve seen that as a heartache and a flaw to be tamed.

For the record, it’s not.

If God allows you to see something, it’s because He has something for you to do about it, whether it’s someone who can’t quite find the correct change to buy the few things they need at the self-checkout or the micro-expression on your friend’s face that gives you a glimpse of their heart in that moment when you know their world is crumbling. God has opened your eyes to what is around you so you can do something about it. We are all doers. We are all the ones who pick up our neighbors when they’re falling and bring balloons and banana pudding to the parties when those around us are celebrating. Don’t belittle or ignore what you see, for in those little moments is the power to change the world.

It’s also fact that I’ve felt a little (okay, a lot…) like a nomad. And as much as I’d like to blame that on whatever this “post-Race” disorder is, honestly, it’s been happening for a lot longer than that. We can take it back to high school and college and the pre-Race, too. When I read Katie’s story, I soaked up the words because they spoke so closely to my heart for the widows and the fatherless, but this brought me to my knees:

“My heart lives in so many places. With so many people. But God whispers to me that I really have only one home, and that is with Him. I will never be content on this earth. I will always be a nomad. It was meant to be that way. My heart was created with a desire for a home, a nest, a sanctuary, and that can be found only with Him in heaven. And I will continue bouncing from one home to another, loving with everything I have in whatever location I currently reside, excitedly awaiting the day when I am called heavenward and He says to me, “Welcome home.””

S0, dear friends, I am desperately trying to walk out that last bit – loving with everything I have wherever I am with my eyes on the “Welcome home” waiting for me. And as hard as it is, I’m having to break out a two year old lesson God taught me on a sporadic trip to Texas in 2012 – abide: walk in what you knowI still don’t know what’s next. I know something is next – God has confirmed that over and over again (and I think some of those things are seriously exciting. I have so many ideas and dreams rolling around in this head of mine) – but I’m going to walk out exactly what I know right here in this place until He tells me to pack my bags and move (again).

3 thoughts on “N O M A D

  1. Grandma Harrell says:

    It’s easy to become confused when you have accepted Jesus as your Savior. However, He will continue to guide you how he expects you to live, Maybe as you say you have to many irons in the fire for you to distinguish what the Lord really has planned for you. Sometimes you have to humble yourself to the lesser things in life. And in whatever life you decide He will provide if it’s what He wants for you instead of What You want. I Love you so much and always will. Grandma.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Crazy how wanderlust can directly coinside with our desire to find our place with God. I’ve thought these same things more than a few times. I’m glad I discovered this blog.

    Listen to this song, “In Exile”, and let the lyrics and music wash over you. It’ll hopefully make sense to you.


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