not home yet

Oh, love, how minuscule my patience has been in these weeks. I have been trying to speed up your movements to the pace the world has adopted instead of knowing that your timing is perfect. To you a day is a thousand years and a thousand years is a day. I'm sorry for humanizing you, God, instead of making myself at home in the inky darkness of the mystery of who you are. My self love and my impatience spur each other on, that I am so quickly discouraged by the rate of my own and everyone else's spiritual growth and critical of where everyone is. This criticism is not rooted in the cross. Your timing will never be fast enough for my sinful speediness. And if I am living this unbelievably fast paced life and finding glory in that, it will be so hard for us to interact because I'm blatantly disobeying the life I know you call me to.

God has already promised we will receive the love we have been searching for. Henri Nouwen says thats the thing we have got to cling to. That and one more...God is faithful to his promise.

That alone should stop my running about and hold me still.
Were on our way home.
We are not there yet but we're going.
We don't have to be afraid. We don't have to pretend everything's okay.
 Everything is not okay because we're not home yet. The darkness of being sojourners is meant to be leant into so that our hunger for home, our appetite, grows. Embracing the appetite is far better than filling it with endless substitutes that only create new wounds. This isn't the best there is. And nothing here will be the thing that finally quenches the deepest longing. Just saying that brings a flood of relief. SOmetimes it hits me that all my efforts to make the world a better place are not going to work. Its true. Because the world is going to be gone one day. So, yes, we can bring the kingdom here, but we cant act like this is it. This really isn't it. We were created for eternity. Its written on our hearts, God promised in Ecclesiastes. Thats so liberating.  We get to spend forever with the one who paints sunsets and sends winds ripping through mountains and tugs the oceans. That one is the one who said,

"I would rather die than live without you."