heart thoughts (cross-country move)

ponder them in her heart dancing with my father a

 

we are eating from lime green plastic plates and we stretch that with throw-away bowls for the visitors playing cards on the back deck. i’ve simmered a pot of hot and spicy southwestern chicken soup and there’s a bit of avocado and shredded pepper jack cheese fresh home from the farm market. the kids have invited the two-weeks-a-summer neighbor grandkids who share kindred hearts and they’re creating a ruckus that echoes off the raw wood of the new construction on either side.  this neighborhood still bears the scars of a long-past storm, fresh in the hearts of its residents.  most are only here a few days or weeks a year, and so the neighborhood is largely ours.

 

in our little cottage by the sea, we feel foreign and temporary, tripping over each other and the unfamiliar spacing between doors and walls.  our “things” are not all here, but take residence in a storage unit miles away.  our hearts are somewhat unsettled in this space, and still somehow we are connected in our lost-ness.

 

we cannot doubt, either, that we are mutually called here, and our eyes and ears are open to answer that call.  how can we help it?  everywhere we turn, though they express it differently that what we are used to, His people and those that do not know Him have welcomed us.  maybe over a shop counter and perhaps in a church fellowship hall, sometimes with a big smile and sometimes an awkward first conversation with a potential new friend, the people we meet have already shown us that our Papa has us in His arms, even in a new place.  in it all, the new world outside our door is wide open and begs us to explore.

 

and so explore we will, and dig new roots for fresh growth for this little family of vines, vines that must stay close to our Father’s nourishing help so that we can grow into this bright new land.

 

now i pray for patience to be right here in this place, to not wish away the temporary when it is all temporary.  to not rush headlong into what may come ahead, but live in this moment of rest, and of healing, and all things being new.

 

dancing divider webb

Join the Dance!

Subscribe to Dancing With My Father and download a free mini-guide to soul-nourishing study!

Your email is DEAR to us! Unsubscribe any time. Powered by ConvertKit

You Might Also Like

Previous Story
Next Story

6 Comment

  1. Reply
    Amy Glover
    September 22, 2014 at 6:41 pm

    Amen. May the Lord bless you in this tender season, friends.

    1. Reply
      admin
      September 24, 2014 at 4:06 pm

      amy, how i love your heart and your beautiful testimony from even afar. thank you for reading, and for encouraging by your very life.

  2. Reply
    Jordyn
    September 23, 2014 at 4:12 am

    Love you. Love these words! So beautiful and encouraging too!

    1. Reply
      admin
      September 24, 2014 at 4:06 pm

      jordyn, you, too, know the ache of the waiting, the fast journey and the unknown, and your faithfulness and courage inspire me.

  3. Reply
    Poppy
    September 23, 2014 at 3:56 pm

    I don’t know who first said, “the journey IS the destination”, but it is so true even if we do sometimes fail to enjoy/appreciate the process while focusing solely on our desired outcome. Then we find ourselves disappointed when the outcome is different from what we wanted or envisioned. If only we always saw God’s good for us in ALL things. And He ONLY has our good in mind.

    1. Reply
      admin
      September 24, 2014 at 4:05 pm

      SO wise and so true… thank you Papa, for my earthly dad who has grown more tender and more like You as the years pass by. 🙂

Leave a Reply to Amy Glover Cancel reply

CommentLuv badge