Morning Meditations on Returning Home
And it's quiet - for the moment - everything at peace.
Hot coffee and stillness - two things that used to bring me life.
But then I went. I answered that figurative call to go to where my heart was being summoned. And now? Well, now I'm different. Sure, the coffee is still hot - even sipped from the same mug. But it's different somehow. Maybe it's because I now know what an Americano should taste like. Freshly ground beans and the kind of hot only achieved out of a machine. (The coffee in Europe is unbelievably hot!) And this quiet is uncomfortable too. Unbearable even. My thoughts unordered - my memories all seemingly "speaking" at once. The home visits to those unimaginably strong women "talking" at the same time as the day we spent at Romaniv with the boys. Interrupted by the faces of the moms we met at Mom's Camp. Sometimes drowned-out by those smiles and cheers from the children at Special Needs Camp.
But under all this blessed noise - a gentle, quiet whisper.
He was in it all.
From first dream to this quiet moment of unbearable peace. I begin to understand that God's goodness is simply too overwhelming for me, sometimes. I long to control it and order it - to better grasp it. But that's simply not possible. He is the definition of uncontrollable and He created all order. His ways, literally, beyond my comprehension.
So, I'll sit and let the memories "speak".
I'll try to order them with my pen and contain them to this page.
But His goodness?
I suspect that may take an eternity to comprehend. Because there's no ordering or containing Him. Only basking. Receiving. Completely overwhelmed. But I wonder - maybe you need to be overwhelmed too.
Maybe you, like me, have forgotten that - He's in it all.
Start to finish.
Beginning to end.
This "leg" of the race and the next.
Our God sees us, friends. And He is good.