Longing, but lingering...

Tonight, I am so tired I should hit the bed... but I have these thoughts. They have been rolling around in my head... and heart... for weeks. It's the time of year when I tend to get super nostalgic. Pair that with walking the journey with my sweet friend fighting a horrible fight against cancer, another precious friend in a personal battle, Homecoming dance 2012 just having passed, and election season in full force and you have the perfect mix for a rambling of thoughts, emotions, and total thought chaos. I have needed to write for weeks... but I have avoided because I think I just needed to sit a while. No writing, no talking it out, just sitting with it.

But now, here I am.

Sometimes I am completely overwhelmed at the sadness I feel in the world. It isn't hopeless sadness. It's more sadness that comes from a deep longing. I want to go home. Not back home, to where I came from, but my real home. The home I can't even begin to imagine because it is so glorious. The home where there will be no more tears, pain, sorrow, disappointment, or... longing. The place where my baby boy and my grandparents reside. The place where my Father is seated on His mighty throne. The place where the rustle of angel wings is a normal, common, glorious occurance. The place where the sounds of Holy, Holy, Holy are heard... and spoken... in such a powerfully awesome way my mind can't begin to grasp it. Home. HOME!

I often wonder of my Eathan. I wonder when I see him again, will he be like he was, only healed? Will he run to me and say in that same voice, that he loves me? Will his arms still be tiny and chubby all at once? No doubt his beautiful blue eyes will be just as they were... with those long eye lashes batting back and forth. Can you imagine? CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT DAY?

But, if that will be as overwhelming as my heart anticipates, can you imagine that the reunion will be in the presence of my Father and my Savior? Oh my word!

And my friends will be healed. Cancer will not exist. Suffering will not even be a thought in my mind.. or anyone's. Worry over my children, fear over the lost, disappointment over my adopted daughter's wayward heart... all gone... in a blink of an eye.

I'm ready.

But, then my thoughts travel back to now, to the stories that are shared with me over the dance and the behavior of some teens that are astray. I return to my ongoing burden of my adopted daughter determined to embrace her birth roots rather than her God-given freedom from the bondage she was born from... and the concern of her salvation.

Maybe I am not ready quite yet.

There is work to be done right here on earth. The Lord has not returned. He has not taken me... or anyone reading this... HOME yet. Because He is the author of life... that means we just have to dig in and get more determined. The world is a harsh place with even harsher realities. It isn't our real home, but it is where God has us. We should long for HOME but we shouldn't forget that until He takes us there, we must find deep satisfaction right where we are, trusting God is up to something glorious, for His glory.

It's not always easy, is it?

But when I really start to think about the many ways He has carried me, blessed me, protected me, sheltered me, overjoyed me, loved me, cared for me, provided for me, whispered to me, yelled at me, held me, disciplined me, and stayed with me.... I realize that all of the joys and sorrows of this world are beautiful because He touches me in them.

That makes it easier, a little, somehow.

I will continue to long for Home. I will miss my boy more and more in the days ahead as I remember the last weeks of his life before he jumped from my arms to Jesus... and I will cry and cry and cry. I will pray and sit with my terribly suffering friend and I will hurt deep into my core. I will struggle over situations that are taking place where I am helpless to do a thing and I will ache.

But then I will feel Him. He will draw near... the way He always does and I will experience joy and peace that cannot be explained or expressed because it is such a spiritual journey that only the Holy Spirit can possibly understand my expressions from within it.

Home... I am ready... but until I get there... thank you Father, for what I have right here... right now. Please... use me. I don't want a single tear, sorrow, joy, or circumstance to go to waste.

Longing, but lingering.....

Robin