Mon, Feb 11
... Homeless vagabond with beautiful shoes
It's funny... I've never felt so loved by my close friends, and I've never had such rich, deep, enduring friendships as I do now, and yet I've never felt so alone; so... out of the loop. So out of touch with the rest of the world. So displaced, like I don't belong. Like I'm searching for home, and not finding it anywhere I look.
Ironic, isn't it, that I talked about this last night when I spoke. "We do not belong here. We were created for something much richer, something much deeper, something much fuller than what we live in now. This is not the ultimate in life!" I know that. I can tell them that. I can speak on being an artist, on living this life with the full realization that there's something greater awaiting me, but when it comes to actually living that? Well now, that's a different story altogether.
"All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country--a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them." (Heb 11:13-16)
"This is theatre, you collection of displaced and awkward souls." I love that quote. I am a displaced and awkward soul. Someone who doesn't belong where she is; someone looking to find the answers, to find grace in the unexpected places, to find Christ in every corner and every person. I think, though, that if we are truly honest, that describes life. Humanity is a collection of displaced and awkward souls. It's just that most of us don't want to admit it. We like to pretend that we're exactly where we want to be, and nothing's wrong with the way life's going.
And yet... and yet. This displaced and awkward soul is seeking. Searching. Waiting. Longing. This homeless vagabond with beautiful shoes is dancing toward a home she cannot see. Beautiful shoes on my feet, making the path light and the journey a little more pleasant. Because I'm dancing there. I'm not trudging, walking, marching, or even skipping. I'm dancing in my beautiful shoes
infinite || abyss
posted at 12:25 p.m.
