Morning Meditations on Returning Home

The coffee is hot and smooth as I sip it. 
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?
His power?
His Love?
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. 

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. 

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you. Psalm 139: 1-18 (NIV)