Last weekend I moved into a sweet two bedroom condo. I have enough space to spread out and breathe, yet it’s small enough to be cozy and feel like home.
As I sit at my desk and look around I finally see, after a three year hiatus, all my earthly possessions in one place. It is simultaneously comfortable and unsettling. Strange and overwhelming. So normal to move and live and rest among the things I enjoy. So strange to be here, in this place, at this stage of life, so far from where I thought I’d be.
It’s easy to focus on the latter. How I’d rather be there than here. How I’d rather go back than forward. How I’d rather be doing that than this. All those days spent working toward something that disappeared in an instant have resulted in this – an adorable apartment with the coziest couch, an endless supply of hot coffee, friends to fill these spaces, the presence of Jesus in each and every breath – yet in the midst of all that is there is a steady ache that reminds me of all that isn’t.
And so I sit, holding this pretty pink mug full of decaf, reminding my heart that there is much, much more to this story. Right here, in the midst of a painful chapter, the Lord interjects “Yes, this is painful. But…“
“My heart & my flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart & my portion forever.” Psalm 73:26
My heart? Failing.
My flesh? Failing.
But God? Strength for my heart. Enough for me. Forever.