One Meme Away

I've been caught up in my own head.  I'm a verbal processor.  Or, I thought I was.  No, I am.  I like to talk everything through with other people because I need to hear the words and see the reactions.  I need feedback.

But, something has changed in all of that.  I'm not sure if I'm more wise now.  Or more wounded.  Either way, I hold my cards closer to my chest than I ever have before.

Now, the thoughts roll around my head instead of out of my mouth.  I spend more time praying and less time chatting.  And, the blog has taken the hit- not that I've been consistent with it for a long time.

In January, Tony went to the US for business.  He had meetings about our future.  Let me tell you how much my Type A self loves waiting for what's apps that are potentially going to change my life. Let me tell you how much more I love not getting any information.  That week was also my first week of teaching.  I remembered how much I loved teaching and why I wanted to do it in the first place.  I also ached for my own kids.  Something about sending my kids off to school and teaching other people's kids is hard for my brain to digest.

It was a really tough week.  But, I felt the Lord really near to me.  Unfortunately, He wasn't as chatty as I wanted Him to be.  He was near but quiet.  I knew something was doing in the spiritual realm, but nothing concrete.  (I still don't have anything concrete.  Or even abstract.  No announcement in this blog.)  I do know that my spirit stilled.

Wait.  That's not the word.  "Stilled" is the wrong word.

My spirit is always churning through the "what's nexts."  I suppose it's the mandatory side effect of our life.  We try with everything we have to plant ourselves wherever we are, but that never completely silents the questions of "when, Lord?"  and "where do You want us?"

I spent the last two weeks of January and the first of February still churning, but it was focused.  I began to ask better, more trusting questions.  I stopped feeling frantic and felt aware.  I can't tell you what I prayed, but I know the Spirit prayed mightily over the past three weeks.

I've become aware that
-our time in Panama is probably coming to a close
-I'm okay with leaving
-the Lord loves my kids
-our decisions regarding next steps won't be accepted by everyone
-I don't need approval from onlookers
-Jesus is faithful
-I don't need friends that number like the stars; I'm thankful for a solid handful of true ones.
-I have that handful.
-a coffee date on a Friday morning makes life so much better

Last Monday, we went to Colombia on vacation.  It was AMAZING- lots of blogs to follow.  But, before we left, I was fiddling with Facebook.  A friend posted a meme.  (I've only recently learned how to pronounce that word correctly.  It's long first "E" silent second "E")  Since I'm a lover of words, one great thought can stop me in my tracks. And this one felt like the revelation I'd been needing.  At least part one of it.

Here's the picture minus the words...



The thought that accompanied it?  

"Just because you fit in, doesn't mean you belong."


That thought has been bumping around my brain for over a week.  I got on the plane thinking about it.  I spent the week in Colombia understanding it.  My family of 6 is where I belong.  It's where God has put me.  Education is where I belong.  I was created for it.  My dearest friends are where I belong.  They've walked with me to better things because they desire better for me.  The specific ministries the Lord's handed me are where I belong.   May my home always be a safe place for people.

But, there are lots of places I fit where I don't belong.  Certain ministries.  Certain people.  Certain customs and expectations.  They are all amazing.  But, they aren't where I belong.  On paper I may fit in, but they will always feel awkward. Like the mix isn't right.  Like oranges and garlic.

I've come back from Colombia (and back to the blog) with less baggage to carry.  The freedom to live out 2016's "run".  I'm running more freely and with greater courage.  I'm releasing fitting in because I want to be where I belong.  When are we moving?  Maybe next year?  Maybe sooner unless it's later.  Where are we going?  Get a map and a dart.  You tell me where it lands.  Maybe that'll be the place.  But, I'm running to the plan Jesus has for me.  The place where I belong.

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