Irrelevant Ramblings

Today is dreary. All I can think about is going to Heaven. I’ve never (honestly) wanted to go to Heaven. I think that probably makes me a bad Christian, or maybe just a human. But today I imagined that it is probably way better than I could even think of. It’s outside of our realm of thinking. Have you ever heard that country song that says “if Heaven was a pie, it would be cherry,”? How dreadful that Heaven must be for anyone who dislikes cherry.. haha I’m just kidding.

But I do get what he’s saying in the song. I think he is trying to convey those things that bring you bliss that aren’t ‘things’. He talks about twilight and lightning bugs and mama’s laughter. For me, I think the closest experience I’ve had to Heaven would be coming home from the race. Now before you lose your mind and remind me that you paid for my trip, let me explain.

There is something so magical about coming home, for me. I’m not talking about a physical house. I don’t believe home is where you lay your head, necessarily. I believe that it is where your heart is. (Yes, I know how cheesy I sound right now) But really, coming home has been one of the most insane and beautiful experiences. I’ve never felt so overwhelmed, as when I walked down the airplane connection tunnel to find my family poking their heads around the corner.

It was all I could do to continue standing. It’s bringing tears to my eyes as I’m typing this and the evening that followed was more of the same. I walked into my house, the smells, the furniture, my dog, the kitchen, my bed...all of them so inviting. The one thing they all conveyed was comfort. I think that’s the major thing, I searched for in each new country I lived in and immersed myself in.

Today, I was thinking back to my time in India. We were preaching at a church and before the service we walked around the village to pray for people. On the road we came across a little old lady who was on her way, very slowly, to the church. She heard that we were coming and she wasn’t gonna miss her chance to be prayed for. Her family found her walking and ushered her back to their home. We went to their house and began talking to the family and found out she was 114 years old.

She said she wanted to know why she was still alive. She begged, everyday, for God to take her. At this point in the race, we were in the final month. I related so much with this woman because I too prayed everyday to get sent home. I think the feeling, although much more desperate on her end, is the same. I think what I’m feeling now is homesickness. While I was gone I experienced the most authentic love and a very real, very tangible grace. I had to depend on Jesus more than I’ve ever been able to.

Now that my eyes have been opened, nothing that is not saturated in him satisfies.

I can never be in a non- Christ centered relationship again. It feels dirty, it’s boring and quite honestly I deserve nothing LESS than a Christ centered relationship. Food doesn’t satisfy, I can no longer finish a pop larger than a can and not feel sick. Attention doesn’t fuel me any longer. These are all things I used to thrive on, or so I thought.
I don’t really know where to go from here, but this is where I am.

I know this has nothing to do with weight loss, but I feel it’s still relevant and this is MY blog and I do what I want. ;)

Also, I’ve completely fallen off the wagon again. It’s a dark scary hole. But I see the light and I have confidence that I’ll make it back on in the next couple of days.