coming home.
Each thud releases an excess of energy that's been bursting from my skin all day. I can't pretend I'm not frustrated. Everywhere I turn, there's a memory of who I once was; what I once believed about the world, about myself, about my God. The lies, the immaturity, the broken friendships, the fear. I keep working. My body begs me to stop; to give it a moment of reprieve, but I know it will betray me. I know it wants to be alone, free from my persistent nagging; free from my force. Each turn builds resilience in my muscles, distracting them from the ache. But I can't lie to them, there's so much further to go. I start to wonder, if my body can't endure this, how's it meant to endure fifty more years of my lifestyle. Ha, I release some pent up tension and laugh at my attempt to be deep.
My lungs are gasping for air, wheezing against my effort to drown out the world with beats. The sun is balancing on the horizon, threatening to beat me to the bottom of the hill and leave me in it's darkness. I push myself harder, bouncing off my toes, propelling my body into the final stretch on my run. My lungs are burning, screaming at me to rack off. Two hundred more metres and then maybe I'll listen.
Today marks 111 days since we touched down on Aussie soil. 111 days since we left a season of adventure and the proverbial open road. 111 days since we said goodbye to our sweet American family, our pup and the mountains I dreamed of even when they were in my backyard.
Discontent sows seeds subtly. I find myself quietly angry at how easily I accepted being back here. I've been in this 25,000 people town for six years of my twenty-five; why am I back? Over the past 111 days, I've soaked in the Aussie beaches and much sunshine; I've reconnected with lifelong friends; I've kick-started my career; I've been uprooted spiritually; grounded physically and discontented mentally. But, how on earth did I end up back here?
And then, this happens.
I get the chance to hang with girls like these. I swear, something little each day reminds me that I love this place. I love the dance the clouds and the sunset do & how it's always spectacular. I love that I can walk down the street and see people I know from so many facets of my short life. I love that I have friends here who love me more fiercely than some of my own blood. I love that I can run for five minutes and be in farmland without a soul around. I love that this is where I was born into a warrior for Jesus; grounded, sure, free. I love that I've lived on every side of town.
In truth, this place is home. The day my Mum decided to pack up and leave my childhood home, I knew the only place I could come back to and feel at home would be here. It's surprisingly beautiful that I've had the opportunity to solidify friendships and sow into the lives of young people I started walking with six years ago. Each weekend we've tried to go to our favourite rock climbing and hiking places; places where we fell in love; places that hold our story like two year old novels waiting to be re-read already 'cause they know they're so good.
Another truth; It's the enslaving fear of standing still & wasting life that cripples my heart. But, that's dumb. (Yeah, I'm great with words, ha!)
This week I've gained fresh perspective. From chats with old friends, brunch bible hangs with old[er] friends, to runs along the beautiful countryside. I miss the mountains and the freedom of never knowing what lay around the next corner; but that will come again soon. Today is a day to be joyful in the predictable, the unfolding of my career, the flourishing of my marriage. To appreciate the small, tasty morsels of joy, companionship, laughter.
Today marks 111 days of a faithful Father whose promises never seem to manifest how we think, but always yield abundantly more fruit than humanly imaginable.
And, like a long run that your body's not quite ready for, we're home. Who cares why we're back; who cares where we'll be in six months. I hope we always keep running.
I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me.
He freed me from all my fears.
Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy;
no shadow of shame will darken their faces.
Psalm 34: 4-5
I'll drink to that! X
My lungs are gasping for air, wheezing against my effort to drown out the world with beats. The sun is balancing on the horizon, threatening to beat me to the bottom of the hill and leave me in it's darkness. I push myself harder, bouncing off my toes, propelling my body into the final stretch on my run. My lungs are burning, screaming at me to rack off. Two hundred more metres and then maybe I'll listen.
Today marks 111 days since we touched down on Aussie soil. 111 days since we left a season of adventure and the proverbial open road. 111 days since we said goodbye to our sweet American family, our pup and the mountains I dreamed of even when they were in my backyard.
Discontent sows seeds subtly. I find myself quietly angry at how easily I accepted being back here. I've been in this 25,000 people town for six years of my twenty-five; why am I back? Over the past 111 days, I've soaked in the Aussie beaches and much sunshine; I've reconnected with lifelong friends; I've kick-started my career; I've been uprooted spiritually; grounded physically and discontented mentally. But, how on earth did I end up back here?
And then, this happens.
Two of the three stunning ladies who were my first Young Life girls, five years on & going strong
I get the chance to hang with girls like these. I swear, something little each day reminds me that I love this place. I love the dance the clouds and the sunset do & how it's always spectacular. I love that I can walk down the street and see people I know from so many facets of my short life. I love that I have friends here who love me more fiercely than some of my own blood. I love that I can run for five minutes and be in farmland without a soul around. I love that this is where I was born into a warrior for Jesus; grounded, sure, free. I love that I've lived on every side of town.
In truth, this place is home. The day my Mum decided to pack up and leave my childhood home, I knew the only place I could come back to and feel at home would be here. It's surprisingly beautiful that I've had the opportunity to solidify friendships and sow into the lives of young people I started walking with six years ago. Each weekend we've tried to go to our favourite rock climbing and hiking places; places where we fell in love; places that hold our story like two year old novels waiting to be re-read already 'cause they know they're so good.
Another truth; It's the enslaving fear of standing still & wasting life that cripples my heart. But, that's dumb. (Yeah, I'm great with words, ha!)
This week I've gained fresh perspective. From chats with old friends, brunch bible hangs with old[er] friends, to runs along the beautiful countryside. I miss the mountains and the freedom of never knowing what lay around the next corner; but that will come again soon. Today is a day to be joyful in the predictable, the unfolding of my career, the flourishing of my marriage. To appreciate the small, tasty morsels of joy, companionship, laughter.
Today marks 111 days of a faithful Father whose promises never seem to manifest how we think, but always yield abundantly more fruit than humanly imaginable.
And, like a long run that your body's not quite ready for, we're home. Who cares why we're back; who cares where we'll be in six months. I hope we always keep running.
I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me.
He freed me from all my fears.
Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy;
no shadow of shame will darken their faces.
Psalm 34: 4-5
I'll drink to that! X
Pizza / cider / husband / water / sunset
Hillsong Colour Conference, Sydney March 2016; Such a surprising and timely encouragement
Coming home was a bit like this...
Sweet family reunion
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