Lately I have had this craving.
For adventure, I suppose.
For the smell of a coffee shop and
the busyness
outside its window. For the artwork
just down
the road or a museum to peruse
through endless
in thought. I miss wearing peacoats and carrying
umbrellas and walking down the street
– normally
feeling bigger than the surrounding
buildings.
For romance too.
Adventure & romance. They go
hand in hand,
don’t you think?
…
I’ve been witnessing the very things
I’ve
cried out for come true. I’ve
watched them unfold
within me and around me. It’s like
witnessing a true
miracle. There’s been such joy in
this new season.
It’s kind of funny to say, but
through the heartache
of the past few years (or rather the
healing) – I’ve
found I’m already looking back and
some how
missing it.
Not because I felt so close to God then
and now
I do not. No, that’s not it at all. Rather, I think,
because there was safety and routine
and rhythm
in this past season. I came to fit
into it and be
content in it as if it were my own
skin.
I’m glad things are changing. It
means I’m walking
more into my calling. Going deeper
still. Witnessing
the very hand of God in my life. I’m
working out a
new rhythm with the Lord. I’m working out contentment
in certain areas.
Things are changing. It’s a new
season.
The very one You promised.
It’s a season of life. The blooms
fade not. The trees
yield their fruit twelve months of
the year.
I’m thankful.
I’m still a little distant. Or
cautious.
I enjoy secrets still – just between
me & Him.
I doubt this part will ever change.
If you could
see me now.
I laugh again. I really laugh again.
.
.
