At the beginning of the year, I found myself writing a lot about seeking and the unsettled ache and the continual true end: my home in Christ. It is the place where I am small in his shelter, where I am loved and treasured as the object of his affection, where I recognize the questions, answers and meaning as finding their end in him.
This morning, on the heels of much activity and travel and birthday parties for my summer girls and good things and warm weather life that’s filled me up and worn me out, I know the longing as a constant companion. And through the times of busyness, I feel the ways I’m reaching.
Several weeks (months?) ago, my friend Lori Harris said that she’s allowing herself to sit still in the question Jesus asks in Scripture, What do you want me to do for you?
This morning, my life looks like a cup of coffee that’s been stirred through with half and half, and it’s just beginning to slow (for a few moments at least), and so I’m asking myself this question again.
Allowing myself to answer that I am reaching, I am needy, and so what I want from Jesus is, honestly, everything. And also to become small again, for I desire that any light I shine in this world points the way back to the ever-gleaming Beacon.
This morning, I realize my desire for purpose, confidence, wholeness and peace, and so these are parts of my answer to the What do you want me to do for you question. I see as clearly as the hand in front of my face the ways I can never grasp them when I’m climbing and clawing.