Between my last blog and this one, I spent Christmas and New Years in Ecuador, a layover in DC, a month in Malawi, Africa and travelled by myself for the first time in 4 months. I returned stateside a little over a month ago. And I’ve shuffled over a decent amount of the state of Virginia.

So far my month stateside has been filled with:

Job hunts
Phone numbers on airplanes
Meeting up with friends at an outlet mall
Spending hours on wifi waiting to catch someone online
Bookstores
Starbucks
Church shopping
Jordanian pilots
The Grammys
Super Bowl
Missy Elliott
Missed prayers for the woman sitting next to me
Offering rides to strangers in the cold
New clothes
New shoes
Skype calls
Crocheting projects
And lots and lots of cold and snow.

And at times the struggles of the juxtaposition of where I was a little over a month ago and where I am now.

I’m okay with the struggle.
Really.

I want it.
Because the struggle I’m facing reminds me.

The struggle tells me that my heart. My soul. And my life has definitely changed.
If the struggle ends – it’s because I’ve begun to live without remembering all of the people I’ve met, the people I’ve travelled with, the villages I have visited, the children I’ve played with and the women and men I have laughed with and the sweet moments with which The Lord has shaped my heart.

The struggle leads me to seek The Lord. To find consistent and constant rest in His providence and provision. I hope to be so acutely aware of the Spirit’s presence that there is no struggle to go against the grain of life in this world.

I went to a job interview the other day. One of the first things that my potential manager and I discussed was whether or not she could without a shadow of a doubt count on me to be there in 6 months.

And I had to be honest.
I hope so, but I’m not sure.
I want to be in one place for a while. I want to have a house or an apartment with a bed that is mine.
I want to have have a place where I can shower and leave all of my shampoo, conditioner and body wash in place when I step out onto a RUG.
I want to unpack the boxes that have been packed for nearly two years and hang clothes on hangers that I’ll undoubtedly hate in a few weeks because they are hangers and putting away clothes is a worse chore than ironing to me.

I want permanence.  But more than physical permanence, I want a spiritual one.

I want a spiritual permanence that involves letting Him lead me and guide me, no matter where or what that looks like. Giving Him free reign to whatever He wants in my life, including my desire to land and rest in one place. If the struggle is between this life back “home” and the heart He has given me to follow after Him — I welcome it.

For now, I am settling down in the Richmond area. If you’re wanting to hear more about what God is doing, feel free to reach out.