Deep Longing

Feeling tired, frustrated, hot, bloated, sore. It seems like I am swimming against a big wave. The wave of people pound on me with their ideas and beliefs, and I find myself having to defend my faith daily. I think we are cautioned if we are experiencing smooth sailing and the approval of many in this life. I am finding myself more and more alone on the narrow path with few who will even join me or even listen. I'm not surprised, it is how it is. With banks closing all around us, a mi-rad of sirens going off in the night, yelling and arguments and wild parties at my neighbors house; I can't help but breathe, a moment at a time, and comfort myself that this too shall pass. As even nature cries out for redemption, so does the world await the Prince of Peace, our Shelter, our Comfort our present help in times of trouble. I feel everyone more edgy around me. Perhaps it is the smoke from over 200 fires in our beautiful province.  Perhaps it is the silent but visual shriek of the animals trapped in the forests, now burning. Thirty more fires apparently are starting every day. How desperately, we rely on God, but we still refuse to give Him recognition. We blame mother nature, for the lack of rain, instead of crying out to Father God to bring relief to our dust bowl. How we rely on His sustenance daily, even in our grief, and arid place in our lives. There is no one who can make the dessert blossom as the rose. Only Him. When friends and family forsake you, or even if you just feel like they do, we have a friend who is closer than a brother. We simply must reach out and touch Him, even his garment, while he may be found. My senior neighbours whom have been such a treasure to us during the time we lost Deborah, are also moving away to a 55 plus town-house complex. Sometimes I find the isolation poignant. We make friends, neighbours, and loose them. We have children, and we loose them, but definitely all of us have to let go. This is a pain hard for mothers especially. It is the order of the life cycle though. We are transient nomads, sojourners here. Our very deep longing is to be in our true home, the one prepared for us. Not the one that is made with corruptible material, but one that made with incorruptible things that can never perish.

I met up with a lady yesterday, who has no family, only her husband. She says, that on the day close to the Feast of Trumpets this year, she is going to have all her important documents, will, photos, testimony on her table. When her distant relatives who are not walking with God, come to their home from back east, they will have everything there for them. A memoir, and a guide to the Truth. When we are absent in our bodies, then we are present with the Lord. I so long for that day.