restless

Restlessness. It seems to be always with me. Restless for the week to begin, the week to end, the conversation to begin, the conversation to just be over and ended and done. Restlessly waiting for that first morning that I open the back door and feel cool fall air, for the clouds to let go of their rain, for the full red moon to rise, for the sun to color clouds and finally set down. Restlessly anticipating news…good or bad or anything but the same old thing again and again. A constant waivering between loving the here and now and wanting to get to the there and then. Just settling in, just getting comfortable, and then recognizing that familiar itch to leave. It’s in the way I read ten books at one time, start five projects and write down eight ideas and plan three roadtrips and side projects and hobbies and lives, and only rarely get any of them to the point of completion. It’s what I’ve always labeled as an issue of attention. It’s what I am starting to now see as something more.

I am starting to see it as a gift.

I have wrestled with this holy discontentment for so long that I think anyone who has spent time with me must be sick to death of the conversation. It’s so cyclical. It’s so typical. It’s so restless.

Am I where I am supposed to be? Am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? Am I heading in the right direction here? Or should I be there? Or maybe over there? Or perhaps….there? Am I giving enough, praying enough, saying enough, helping enough? And why can I not seem to sit still long enough to listen to the answers?

So I wrestle and strain and grow frustrated and fearful. I fight the desire to remain safe and comfortable and in control. I battle with complacency. I beat myself up and unfairly judge others. Or feel jealous towards others. Or get angry at others. Then myself. Like I said, it’s a battle, and it’s cyclical, and it’s on me like a winter coat.

But oh, what a gracious God we have. What a lovely Lord who does not remain silent. Who speaks to me even when I refuse to listen. Who talks to me in ways so obviously meant for me and only me that I lose my breath in it’s intimacy. A Holy Spirit who is working in me through the restlessness to bring about ideas and truths so much larger than my small, self-centered world. Whispering to me, shouting to me, keeping me here in this battleground place.

Yes. Keeping me here. This is the truth I have only recently come to accept. This restlessness, this “I should move to Mexico, or what about Honduras, or Guatelmala would be nice, or just start my own private practice, or sell all I can do without, or get rid of technology, or find some land and take in foster children, or get truly involved at church, or finally really learn Spanish, or go back to school, or….,” it’s not going anywhere. I am seeing it as a gift, because it is clearly a part of who I am. It is my Father’s way of keeping me in check. Keeping me on my toes. Alert, eyes open, ears focused on His words, always watching for the next place to pour out His love. My little gift, this restlessness…It’s here to stay until this life is done, because this is not our home.

I have settled down enough lately to listen to the Holy Spirit’s whisperings, and they are clear and sweet and true. They are telling me that I have this unsettled nature here, sinking deep in these bones, in this blood, because I am going to always be searching for the next thing to do to bring Him glory in this place…and to focus on being with Him in the next. There is a reason why nothing feels comfortable here. There is a reason why I never seem to quite get to that place of feeling content. The ceiling is so low…the yearnings of the heart get crushed under it’s frustrating weight. This is not our home.

But oh, what a gracious God we have. He gives us glimpses every day that draw us into His perfect presence. He speaks to us in ways so delightfully personal we can not put them into words that anyone else would understand. He brings us fall morning breezes and breathtaking sunrises and mercies so new each morning we should all just weep upon waking. He guides us. Refines us. Forgives us. Holds our feet to the fire and refreshes us with living water, bread of life. He puts us here, right here, right in this restless spot that never seems quite big enough, and challenges us to live huge. He wants us to seek Him in the mundane. To find Him in the every day. To wrestle with Him through the frustrations of this suburban, American, everything-we-will-ever-want-or-need-or-have-in-excess-and-refuse-to-give-away place. To find Him in the subtleties and make His presence known. To be the light in a dark and dying world and to be that light exactly where we are right now. Because this is where He has us, right now. This is where we are, where we are to be obedient to what we already know of Him, to show this place His love, His face…

So I am afraid, and overjoyed, that I have been told I will remain restless until that glorious day…I am where He has placed me for today, and here I will seek Him, show Him…I will stop merely waiting for patterns to change, chains to break, fears and habits to fall away, and get about the business of working out my salvation. This is what Jesus Christ died for. This is the freedom found even when we feel so suffocated by the trappings of this fallen world.

This is not our home.

Philippians 2

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him he name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.  Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. Likewise you also should be glad and rejoice with me…