I was all ready to sit down and write a funny post about total nothingness but I'm a little distracted by a sick feeling I have in the pit of my stomach.
Yesterday afternoon, after dropping off a friend of Olivia's, we drove by our old house so the kids could see where they were born.
Actually, they were born in a hospital. I'm not one of those. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I'm not.
We stopped in front of the house for just a minute. I pointed out the windows that were their rooms, the giant oak tree in the front yard looked just the same, and we talked about long walks we would take all around the neighborhood in their stroller.
And then the sick feeling came and I'm having a hard time shaking it.
It was a sweet life with old houses and pretty trees, lots of neighbors who had kids our kids' ages and invited us over for playdates, and older couples who rocked in chairs on their front porch and waved and spoke as we walked by.
It was easy. And safe. And pleasant.
And I miss it.
I know all the things I'm supposed to know about our call to this neighborhood and 90% of the time, I'm there. I feel it too. I love it. But there are times like now, when my flesh, the dark part of my heart that long for ease and comfort and pretty things, rears back against the gentle words of the Lord who bid us to come and follow Him - wherever that might be.
Last night, I read a passage in a book by Francis Chan. It was about a couple, a mechanic and hairdresser, who, over their lifetime, had fostered 32 children, 16 of which they had adopted. Chan praised them for their obedience to James when he exhorts us to care for the widows and the orphans. But what encouraged me most about the story was their honesty about the trials of the ministry they had begun. Sometimes, they felt the joy in the call and sometimes, in darker seasons, they were spurred forward only by sheer obedience.
Strangely, it was the most encouraging part of the story and I've thought about it all day. Like so many passages in the Bible, their obedience to the Lord trumped everything. They trusted Him most because they knew Him to be trustworthy.
This is a heck of a way to start the New Year, I know. But I'm thinking it could be a good thing. I'm praying that, through this season, I will know the Lord more and rest in the fact that he alone is the Author and Perfecter of my faith.
And there's not a pretty neighborhood in the world that can top Him.