Restless heart

The best way to describe my life these days is that my insides are continuously squishy. I am so often unsure of myself; I wonder how to keep getting up every morning, never really knowing where the day will take me.

I am a foreigner in a strange land. A citizen of another universe; a member of a heavenly kingdom of perfection but trapped in an airport with a ticket but no boarding pass. And yet, here I am. Some days my heart rejoices, others my heart dissolves into never-ending tears for things that shouldn't be yet are.

I long for rest - true rest. Restoration of soul and vision. But they are  just outside of my reach. I can sometimes see them - I just can't reach them.

I forge ahead with each day's tasks; hoping I make a difference in something. I ask only that I can be found faithful in the small things set in my path. The small is enough.

Yet, my heart is restless; I know there is more than I am grasping and it leaves a gaping hole in my heart while I scurry around trying to determine how to shore up the landscape of my life. If nothing else, I am a picture of a life not yet completed, with many brush stokes to be yet painted on the canvas before I receive that boarding pass I so long for.

After all, aren't we all in search of our home?