Longing For Home

I’ve become aware of something lingering in the back of my addled brain. It’s good that as I work through this process of learning and growing into my new life, that things get sorted out along the way, but it’s irritating as heck to have something ambush me when I’m not expecting it. Thus it is with the following:
Somewhere in the back of my head, I’m longing to return “home.” Not bad, you think… except that when I say “home,” I mean my former life. Without the extra 200+ pounds, granted, but to my former life at WCSG / CU Radio. At my day job. With the steady income therein. Where I showed up at the set time, did the stuff that was laid out before me, with the externally applied expectations, out the door at the set time, lay it down, head home, and do it all again the next day. And the next. And so on. World without end, alleluia, amen.
When the Lord swept everything away in 2006, when I lost my mind for a few months and lost some things that I’ve never recovered, when He started the process that would result in where I am today, apparently some part of my head held on to the hope/desire/dream that someday God would relent and allow me to go home. To the life I had known for ALMOST 20 years. (Yup, still a little bitter that I was just a few months short of the 20 year mark.) That He would do what He needed to do, change what needed to be changed, make me into what He had in mind, then He’d be done and I could go home.
I’ve seen friends that were long away from CU Radio return, coming back into the family. I’ve seen friends allowed to move “sideways” into new places, instead of moving down the biffy, like me. (And, in a sense, I’m already there – I’m the overnight voice on WCSG, happily putting in my 8 or so hours over a two week period. Which is making that sweet Traverse City condo a stunning reality.)
(Yeah, right.)
And the voice inside says, “See? If you were worth something, they would have found a way to keep you, or to bring you back. Obviously, you were useless, so you were launched. Deal with it, oh thou who has no worth and makes no contribution to the welfare of your household.”
(It does us all well to remember at this point that these ramblings are where I trot out the stuff going on in the ol’ noodle, look at them in the physical world and sort the truth from the lies, that I might recognize them the next time they come around. Hang on – we’ll work through this.)
There’s a part of me that keeps hoping that, like Job, God will relent and restore what’s been taken from me. That He will let me go home, to the familiar – where the expectations aren’t self-generated, where I don’t have to struggle to find a reason to get moving each day, where I actually make income and can hang some of my self-worth on dollar signs. To let me slap it into auto-pilot, and not have to wrestle with my identity and purpose.
And then, maybe I’ll find peace and comfort, back where I belong.
Do I belong there? Really? Was Egypt so magnificent that I want to catch the first bus back? Was slavery so lovely that where I am now pales in comparison? Was it ever really that good?
DISCLAIMER – To my friends and colleagues at CU Radio / Cornerstone University: In no way are the statements above meant to reflect on the institution, the organizations therein, or any part of that reality. Y’all aren’t Egyptian slave drivers, there are no pyramids out back, and no one (I know of) has been asked to make bricks without straw. In short, pardon my metaphor.
The answer, for me, is no. It wasn’t that magnificent. It was alright, at times wonderful (especially hearing the stories of listeners drawing closer to God through what they heard on the airwaves), and at times it frustrated the sanctification out of me. At times I did well, at times I was excellent, and at times I wasn’t worth the oxygen I was taking up. I was trying, I was challenging, and for all the good stuff I brought to the table, there was a ton of crap under my chair (not literally… just to be clear).
Regardless of what my inner demons would tell me, I really don’t need to prove anything to anyone. By going back, I won’t show everyone that I’m better, that I’m worth something now, that I am now worthy of being part of the “family.” Going back to my familiar world isn’t necessary to either close old wounds or show those people that I should never have been flushed.
And it probably would be the worst thing for me.
I would become numb to the new, buried in the rut of ALMOST 20 years of habit. (I have issues – I know that.) Doing my month or so of part-time stuff at WaY FM reminded me of how quickly my eyes can close to grace and fix on the mundane. How fast I can become blind to grace and ignorant of God’s hand.
Going home would probably stop my growth, and learning my new life, right in its tracks. There would be no need to struggle and come to terms with who I am now, or who God is making me into. I would forget lessons learned, close my ears to lessons to be learned, and take my eyes off of the new path.
If going home was the best thing for me, my Father would lead me there. But He hasn’t. And, He hasn’t mentioned it to my beloved either. She, being wiser than me in so many ways, sees clearly that going back would mean going backward.
Could God relent? (He can, but that would mean that He was punishing me, and He isn’t.) Could God have a path in mind that leads me back there? (He could, but it would be in His time, in His way, and would mean that He has prepared me to be there.) Will I go home?
No idea.
Ok – some idea… He could, He might, but at this point He isn’t. He doesn’t want easy for me, He doesn’t want comfortable for me, and He doesn’t want me to slap it into auto-pilot. He wants me mindful, watching, listening, waiting, trusting, looking, believing, and walking. I’m the one who adds the words struggling, striving, wrestling, searching, wandering…
I am already heading home. In Him, not in things or places or situations. I am His, and He doesn’t want to share me with a job. He wants my whole heart, no distractions, no obstructions. He wants me to LIVE this new life, not to return to the place He brought me from. To feast on what He provides today, and not be longing for leeks & onions (or turnips, for that matter…).
He didn’t take me away from home; He’s bringing me home – to Him.
“Loved with everlasting love, Led by grace that love to know.
Gracious Spirit from above, Thou has taught me it is so.
Oh this full and perfect peace, Oh this transport all Divine.
In a love that cannot cease, I am His and He is mine.
In a love that cannot cease, I am His and He is mine.” **
Welcome home, wandering pilgrim.
** “I Am His And He Is Mine” – words, George W. Robinson

2 comments

  1. Theresa says:

    Thanks for your ramblings. A friend told me about this particular blog and I knew I had to read it. I’m sitting here crying right now because it is SO where I am at, wanting to go BACK to a time I felt I had more worth, more influence, energy, effectiveness, etc. It’s funny how stuck we can get looking backward and how much time we can waste being afraid that there is nothing ahead of us. That’s kind of where I am at. Thanks for sharing. It’s always good to know we are not alone in our struggles to finish the race. I’m glad to see you pushing through.

  2. Cal says:

    Indeed, friend – we are not alone! Although everything our senses would say to us tell us that there is nothing ahead, our Father not only knows the path but walks it with us! I pray His peace as you walk ahead, His comfort when things seem dark, and His wisdom for clarity in the chaos for you! Blessings, and thanks for being along for the ride!

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