"will you come with me to the mountains? it will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. but will you come?" -c.s. lewis
Through the slight chaos and uncertainty that's rocked my little world over the last month, I'm learning. My quote book is becoming fuller by the day, and my quiet heart has become the good kind of restless.
It's unrealistic, living where I do at this point in time, to think that each day will involve something new and exotic. The significance of these lessons being taught to me in the quietness of the everyday life I lead are not becoming lost on my soul. Though not easy to learn, some of them, there is a common figure: grace upon grace upon grace. And I can see that now.
I awake and go to work in the wee hours of the morning, and light candles; and take a deep breath to blow out the candles in the evening. I align all the hangers only for them to be touched and thrown out of that state of perfection less than twelve hours later the next morning.
My mind wanders and I ponder. Four days ago I became closer to nineteen than eighteen, and my heart ached a little at the thought. Because "truth is stranger than fiction." I couldn't have written the story I'm living right now for sure. I'm happy and content, but I realize there's so much more to the little person I am and the little existence I'm living right now. Life- oh, it is ferocious. It's ugly and dismal; messy and actually really scary at times. But the shadows prove there's sunlight, dazzling sunlight, to be seen and searched out.
My heart is on the move; it's hungry.
Hungry for greater and bigger things that what I see right now. But not in the way that I'm discontent; in the way that I know my reason and purpose is here right now, but I know it's elsewhere, and elsewhere soon.
I miss the place I was at two months ago.
Like you or I wouldn't believe it.
But all that's left in me is that dazzling joy and gratefulness.
Through the thorns, roses of all colors are blooming and spreading wildly.
He has better plans than my dreams.
And if His plans involve the blowing and lighting of candles now, my kidlets friends and very few hours in between where I play artist and write and study languages and squeeze in a few moments of school these days, than I'm more than happy.
I get surprised sometimes by how I'm still affected emotionally. And, as per usual, that's where my Jesus comes in.
"I love doing preposterous things," the Shepherd says, "Why, I don't know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection. That's My work- transforming things." -Hinds Feet on High Places
In this itch to grow and go into the world as a disciple, there is a season for wildness and a season for settledness. And this is- well, actually, this is a season of... neither.
this is a season of becoming.
i'm a bit tired of learning life flat on a page. but reality is harsh to the feet of shadows.
will you come?