Right? You all know the feeling: the constant dichotomy of wants and reality, always fighting against the need to concede. Or, fighting against conceding.
What does it meant to be OK in the place and space where you are, while yet leaving room to dream? How do we live faithfully in a place where we must wait, though patience is arduous, leaving little left to look and see (really see) what's around you? I have a hard time living beyond my desires that distract me, sometimes. I wonder what it would look like to walk along your side of the street with the greener side in full view, feeling free to smile and even whistle in your current stride...
I wrote this a while back with the memory of England, my once home, weighing heavily on my heart:
With windows down I stick my face outside to be flitted by the wind.
My hair trails behind me, and I let one or two strands be stolen
so that a piece of me will fly away to places I've never dreamed of, and there I will be where I cannot.
My hair trails behind me, and I let one or two strands be stolen
so that a piece of me will fly away to places I've never dreamed of, and there I will be where I cannot.
Faith in the waiting. Lord, teach us your ways...
