I had the most terrible time remaining focused today. In my world that’s usually a good thing–it means that I am inspired to distraction. It’s been one of those weeks when the sky has been stormy–not the bleak grey kind, but rather that perfect shade of blue that adds this depth of color to the whole world until all the greens pop. Seriously, the most beautiful green landscapes show off under stormy clouds. I (unintentionally) had quite the conversation trying to explain this to somebody in Starbucks yesterday. My accompanying roommate informed me that I was taking the idea of weather small talk to the next level!
Back to the point (I warned you about my distracted state)… it’s been one of those weeks of perfect colors, successful sketches, and near drowning experiences on Pinterest. I come home, make do with the things that have to be done, and then get on to all the other things that are bound to keep me up all night. Staying up all night is never a good plan for me, because I’m a 9 hour sleep girl, and far too fond of mornings. That moment when I first wake up is always a dilemma for me. Do I crave an extra snooze moment, or take a lazier morning, smelling coffee and letting the pages of my favorite Psalms lie flat across my lap? It seems the slower my morning, the better my day. If I could make mornings last all day, I certainly would! And if I could eat raspberry vanilla pancakes for every breakfast without adding any pudge, I am certain I would do that too.
Amidst all these small rambles, here is the thought that grabbed me today: my spirit is fed by what my mind does not understand. Breakfast found my roommate and I sharing a re-sparked appreciation for the Word. It’s like I woke up one morning last week and thought, “good Lord! I don’t read my Bible!” What have I been thinking? I don’t know. With so much other spiritual input, sometimes it takes a while to recognize a slow fade. It’s like how they say by the time you realize you’re thirsty, you’re already well dehydrated. But I find myself returning to it with the wonder and passion of a novice. I open the pages, I read a few chapters, and I think to myself, “I couldn’t tell you anything intelligent about what I just read, but I sure did like it!” There’s a refreshing that comes that is not in any way attached to my ability to understand. I can read a dozen other books that pick apart the depths of meaning and principles and on an intellectual level I grow, but it’s nothing to the childlike joy and wonder of the Bible. I am realizing again that every time I read the Word, my spirit comes alive, even if my mind gets lost.
Isn’t it beautiful though? It’s the simplicity of the child, the confounding of the wise, the delight the goes beyond reason. It’s a grand comfort to know that I don’t have to figure things out with my head. His Word is spirit and life, and I need only get lost on the page.
I found myself buying a new Bible this week. That’s what happens when all your roommates leave on missions trips and you’re home alone. I determined not to spend my day inside that big empty house—I was going to leave and not come back until the sun starting setting. So I packed a bowl of cereal, my favorite spoon and a jar full of milk for breakfast. “I can do this!” I told myself, “I can totally have a fun and creative day all on my own!” Alone time is something I appreciate only in severe moderation. My plan was to start my day by going up to Hilltop and having breakfast with my Bible open in my lap, over looking the city. En-route, where did I end up? That’s right—inside Barnes and Noble hunting for that new perfect Bible.
I have a weakness for pretty things, and new things, and hence I always seem to be getting new Bibles. With each new one I tell myself, “oh yes! This is perfect! I will never want another one! This is exactly the Bible I will hold onto untill it’s weathered and worn.” I want that kind of Bible. But then a season changes, and I always feel like I want a new Bible for a new season. It’s a lost cause. But the beauty of new Bibles is that you have to go through them to find the new location of all your favorite verses. It’s like a trip down “favorite scripture” lane. My journey landed me in Psalm 107. I love Psalm 107 because it seems to cover everything; there is not a road in our journeys that this passage cannot speak to. One piece at a time, it so beautifully describes the redemption and restoration of God in every area of our lives, and it starts with Him bringing us home.
I have felt like verses 1-9 before—wandering in a desert, “finding no way to a city to dwell in.” I’ve had days when I felt as thought I was stuck in the lost and found pile, waiting for somebody to come pick me up. Aren’t we all looking for that place to belong? The first thing Psalm 107 tells us about the steadfast love of God is that He gathers us. “He delivered them from their distress. He led them by a straight way till they reached a city to dwell in… For He satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul He fills with good things.”
I am a soul that has been abundantly satisfied with good things. I am one who has been gathered, and brought into that place of belonging. The journey that brought me here didn’t always feel like a “straight way” but this is a place called home for me, and I can testify to His promise that He has a “city to dwell in” for each of us. I love that it is always in the heart and promises of God to bring us home, and that He makes home a place that satisfies. It is a place where we get to dwell in goodness. He takes those who are troubled and in distress and He gives them safe havens and family.
I am convinced that the sense of being at home and truly belonging is a gift from God. It’s a gift I sought for a long time, and a gift He has given. I took a picture of the Sacramento River and placed it in my Bible by this verse to always remind me of the faithfulness of God. I am home.