coming home in the morning

It's 2:14 a.m. What does a.m. mean, anyway?

For me, this early morning, it means a quiet triumph, peace, and abundant joy. The kids and Copper have long since drifted off, and the house is quiet except for the little black satin cat under my chair who whirrs softly as she slumbers. For me, the triumph is in carving out this time for my own soul. This cavernous dead-of-night time when most of the world in my time zone (Las Vegas excepted) is asleep truly invigorates me. There are no interuptions, no distractions, no excuses. I get to be me, real, unaide and uninhibited, in front of God.

I have slacked with God lately. In any journey you take with a best friend, there are ebbs and flows. My dear marriage to Copper is an example, as are any number of my deeper relationships. Fault for the ups and downs is often difficult or even superfluous to define and establish. But with God, when relations strain, when distance happens and paths diverge, when "Ebbing" occurs, the fault is ALWAYS with me. I am the human, He is the Creator. Talk about your ultimate trump card. I am always the one who falls away from my nourishing daily interraction and into famine, and then inevitably sprints back incredibly thirsty, bruised, lonely, humbled, and grateful for the open, familiar, comforting, strong, warm enveloping embrace of the Lord.

It feels indescribable to be on pace, striding through life again with God at my side, rather than watching me plod off on my own track with arrogant, stupid confidence, alone. In 31+ years, I am still dumbfounded at myself when I make the same mistakes over and over, and over, again. I seem to be in forever pursuit of the Godly good sense to CONSISTENTLY pursue His path, not my own, with unblemished regularity. His path may require a machete at times and feel to-the-bone lonely at others, but the ultimate destination is one I can never find by myself. I need Him. Daily, moment-to-moment, as elemental as breathing. I need God. When I have lost my way, I feel like - like the instincts a mother has when her child is sick. I know there is unhealth at my core, evne when I cannot diagnose exactly the cause, and I and yearn for spiritual restoration - for complete healing: to be well, whole, and home again.

My unaided choices are always so short-sighted, so meaningless. Even when I manage to "get it right", it is a hollw victory because it is on my own terms and with selfish motives and pursuit. So why do I keep wandering off from the path of rigtheousness? The result is always the same on these little forays into "self-sufficiency-I-am-an-island-unto-myself-Type-A" nonsense. Certainly I have learned the pattern by now: I enjoy the ride for an increasingly shorter time (if onyl for it's lack of accountability alone) get inevitably over-extended, panic, grapple and deplete myself to the very limits, and then - bang! Off a cliff or into a wall I go. Or, increasingly more often, into complacency, laziness, worry, lonliness, self-doubt, despair, and apathy.

The latter set is a FAR MORE DANGEROUS environment, because it takes awhile to realize how far from home I've allowed myself to stray when I am not nursing big wounds and thus compelled to turn back. When you make impact against the proverbial wall, you definitely know it. But when you gradually wander off in pursuit of important meaninglessness, it often takes awhle to get your bearings and understand exactly how long it's been since the breadcrumbs ran out and the path back ran cold.

I am ever thankful for God's forgiveness and unending mercy to me - to all of us. Particularly in the face of my tendency to limit my own capacity for mercy and grace by stringent criteria meant to sharpen but so sadly often used to impale. I am grateful I can come back from a long walk alone and be greeted with a hug first. Because I am always welcomed home so eagerly, I am unafraid of what comes next in my soul-shaping process, however daunting it always promises to be. Because He loves me, I can face fire. Willingly and openly. Bring it on. Because He loves me through it and I can borrow His strength, His wisdom, His words, and His heart for people.

Bring it on.

May I always remember what it feels like to come in from the cold. And may I take it to heart and reach out in love first always, following His example, rather than my own piety. Praise God for the eternal welcome mat that extends to His family, no matter how far they allowed themselves to wander, how long they have been traveling, or how late the hour they return.

Even if it is 2:37 a.m.

Humbled and shaped by His grace alone, I am grateful to be again, near enough to God to feel His hand on my life, deliberately . At the end of this latest "ebb", I find peace the passes my understanding. It is intoxicatingly satisfying and inexplicably worth the wait.

Soli Deo Gloria.