Guess where I flung the soggy leaves from the gutters I cleaned this afternoon. Down onto the porch that I swept yesterday. If life is not a circle—an endless round of jobs—then I’ve somehow missed the definition of a circle.
Itchy feet and the restless urge have overtaken me again. I must be getting too settled in. Rain or mist has been the pervading weather for the last several days, leaving me sunless and cabin-locked, for the most part. This evening found me turning circles in the living room. It isn’t quite long enough for cartwheels, unfortunately. I started into Job this morning, but my mind feels completely saturated, like a sponge so soggy it can’t absorb any more. Asked what the Lord is teaching me, my mouth hangs open like a door with a loose hinge, and I can’t squeeze even one drop of refreshing water from my mind. Where do I even begin? I’ve been soaking it up, enjoying the time of solitude up here on the mountain, learning of the Lord. Now I’m ready to bound down into the valley again, desperate to seek and save His lost lambs. “My people perish for lack of knowledge” He says. “There’s a famine for hearing the word of the Lord.” “Beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news.” My spirit wanders around inside me. I catch myself daydreaming witnessing opportunities, replaying conversations, rethinking what I should have said. I want to go out, to seek, to serve, to give myself a sacrifice.
I’ve got to start at home.
Lord, I’m here where Thou hast placed me
Restlessness and doubt still chase me.
Am I needed here at home?
For Lord, the urge to roam has grown.
And I can justify desires
By claiming Thou hast lit the fires.
But Thou hast bid me be content
Where’er it is that Thou hast sent.