Out

When I moved, I never thought I’d want to go somewhere so much.

No, I wasn’t thrilled about leaving the country I’d called home 8 years. It hurt. And it scares me still that the place I’m in (and the place I’m going) I will probably leave at some point as well.

Yes, you heard me. I will probably leave our new residence in the states someday. There’s the chance of going to college and/or getting married. I might not live in the same house my whole life even when I get married and live with my husband. By that, I mean for all I know, God might tell us we need to move out of that first home and go somewhere else. Maybe I’ll become a doctor. Maybe I’ll have twelve kids. Maybe I’ll become a missionary in China. Maybe I’ll keep talking about maybes.

I don’t know.

I’m capable of sinning everyday. And of course, I will never fail to do so. Nor does God’s grace fail.

When I moved, I remember wanting to stay inside just because I was tired or didn’t feel like leaving the house or I had other things (like schoolwork) to do. Nothing to do with the grief. Just didn’t feel like it.

But months went on, waiting continues, and some days I’m in this temporary residence and I get cabin fever. My whole family does. And so we say, “Let’s go out.” Except, there’s not many of options for things we can do. But we find stuff.

We like to go to Barnes & Noble sometimes. Not to buy books always. Just to get out.

We like to take drives sometimes. Not always with an errand. We drive to the mall across town and come back home. Just to get out.

Sometimes I draw things with no real purpose except expressing what I wish I could say. Sometimes I write drafts of posts and stories I don’t think I will ever publish. Just to get out.

I know these things have their point. God has a reason for why I’m where I am, and God has a reason for the things I feel and things I create.

Sometimes, however, I get the feeling when I’m sad that I need to curl into myself. I need to emotionally go into my little “hermit mode”. I won’t internalize really, I’ll just worry about me, me, me.

My index finger stops pointing all around and ends up prodding right into my own chest. And then it doesn’t leave, even if it’s not about me or it’s not my fault or I just need to move on from myself.

That’s why I need to get out sometimes. I need to worry about others. I need to get out of me.

Of course, nothing is certain, and this world is so temporary; we’ve already established I’m capable of sin and thus, can be very selfish and delve very much inwards. I will look for ways to make people care that I am stuck in.

So how do I get out?

I abide in my Savior.

I know that I can come back to my God over and over and His love is so great that He’s willing to be with me and present when I’m walking through each day. He’s there on days I scrunch up in, and days I just want to run out.

God’s the only way I can step outside of myself and do what He calls me to do.

I step out of me and into Him.

He’s not my escape. He’s my liberator.

He’s my strength and the one I need to change my twisted, inward-folded heart. He’s my gracious Father and I pray He help me remember the point to all this goes back to the call Jesus gives us to tell others about His grace. Because this grace will save us from being pulled down by our own inwardness and our own pointless search to find a way out.

So I pray we abide with Him and not seek out or in. We seek Him.

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Rest in His grace, and I hope you realize what peace God’s willing to give our undeserving little hearts–he hearts made to breathe that love in.

God bless, frens.

(Photo cred)