My heart is in a funk. It’s been like this for a few
weeks months now.
I live in the same house I’ve lived in for 18 years; I live in a familiar town; I have the same neighbors; same church; same job. Yet, I am overwhelmingly missing home.
What does that even mean?
I feel unsettled. restless. anxious. Can any place take away this missing?
I want to rest. I want to feel peace. I want to find home, but I don’t know where to start looking.
I am a fish out of water; a nomad without a country; a girl without a home, no matter how many times I click my sparkly red heels together.
When I survey my heart’s missing, I question location first because I know my own two feet are always itching to pick up and leave. I believe that probably has something to do with this funk because it usually does, but I still know God has me here for now.
So this ‘missing home’ must be more than that. Right?
What’s going on, heart?
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28