Russellings of the Spirit

I love to travel.

… To go to places I’ve never been before… to meet people who are nothing at all like me… to see sights so incredible you can’t help but stop and capture their likeness.

And when I haven’t traveled in a while, I start to feel dulled… stagnant… enervated.

Then again…

I love to stay put.

… To have a home… a sense of place… to find comfort and peace in the familiar curve of each tree branch and sidewalk… to know without a doubt that I belong HERE.

When I’ve been away from my place for too long, I start to feel homesick… rootless… soul-starved.

Sometimes my two loves seem to be at war. 

I want to leave. I want to stay. 

Leave. Stay. Stay. Leave.

I worry that I may never find a resolution to this disquieting Sisyphean dilemma.

That I may be living a life of limitless restlessness.

Then, at other times, I somehow remember the lessons from The Teachers. They urged me – in moments like this – to pause… and pray… and listen.

In those moments, I hear the voice of the Psalmist saying, “Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young— a place near your altar, Lord Almighty, my King and my God.” (Psalm 84:3, NRSV).

That is when I remember where I really belong.

That is when I remember to Whom I really belong.

Abundant blessings;