On being homesick.

I find I am weary again. I find I am homesick again. This world, to quote the Bright Eyes song I’m listening to at the moment … ‘has got me dizzy again’. I am weary of the darkness in my heart, I am weary of the cycles of shame and doubt and depression that will not leave no matter what I do or don’t do. I am weary of my self protective ways, of my lack of kindness, patience or compassion. I am weary of my desire to be noticed, loved, adored and my jealousy of others who are. I am weary of my inability to see the best, to rejoice in others successes. I am weary of the dark.

I am tired of having an exterior life that seems like I have all the elements that would make me win the stupid ‘Game of Life’ but an interior life that is full of gunk and dirt. I am tired of living a life of privilege with an ungrateful heart. I am weary of not knowing how to live with all this comfort and ease and the shame that goes along with it. I am tired of hurting the ones I love the most. I am tired of it all.

I am tired of how easy it is to forget the truth of the unseen. I am weary of my lack of prayer, my disbelief in the One who made me and this beautiful world. I am tired of my head down lack of paying attention to the wonder all around me. I am fed up of it being so hard to believe. I am tired of my tendency to see the negative and the way the same old cycles circle and entrap me. I am tired of friends being hurt by people who should love and accept them. I am tired of wanting more than this, of never being satisfied.

I am tired. I am weary.

Please don’t be tempted to make it better.

We’re meant to groan and ache and lament.

Have you seen this world?

Sure, lots of my weary groaning might be self pity or inverted pride or self absorption. But if it is then I’m sick of that too.

It’s ok to feel like this.

I know it’s not all the picture, that I am an amazing mother, a loving wife, a great friend and that I have a life full of good wonderful things. The good stuff is so so flipping good.

But it doesn’t take away the grime, the fears, the dark, the pain. Nothing in this world can ever.

I imagine you want to put a sticking plaster on this. That you want to cheer me up. Please don’t.

I am sure that you have your list of weary things in this life as well, your pains, your hurts, your fears and your shame. We can pretend they aren’t there. But they are.

Why am I smiling?

It’s a wry smile, a smile that is relieved at having remembered this wonderful wonderful thing all over again. I don’t have to pretend about the darkness, I don’t have to be overcome by the hideous self absorption and self pity of my heart. I don’t have to be overcome by my failures again and again and again. I smile through the tears. I smile through the ache because there is a deeper deeper better reason to smile.

I met someone a long long time ago who came into this world to do something about this darkness. Who walked this life as one of us. Who wept and ate and drank and confused everyone he met. I met someone who saw beyond my darkness and wanted to eat and drink with me. I met someone who faced my darkness for me and dealt with my unkindness, my lack of patience my self centred ways. I met someone who knew I needed something more than a good clean up, that I needed relationship with the Maker of this crazy world. Who could really make me clean all the way through and shine light in the darkest corners of my heart. I met someone who died for me. I met someone who rose from the dead confirming for all creation to see that there really is more than this world. That there will one day be a day when all our tears are wiped away, when God and his beautiful humans will dwell together and be at peace.

I know there is a cross and a grave that have changed everything in this world.

Convinced? Maybe not. But don’t tell me I’m better than I am. I’m really not. But maybe that’s not the point after all.

This world is so full of beauty and brokenness. I see more of the brokenness, but through the broken shards around me glimmers of light flicker strong. Through the layers of despair and darkness there is a bedrock of wonder and joy because this world is not it. There is more. There is more. Through the mess of my humanity is one who came into it, took on the darkness and won.

I am homesick once more, but in that homesickness there is wintery joy at the reality that I have a home to be homesick for.

Your correspondent, once more returning to the classic roots of her blogging mojo. Maybe it was a morning alone that resurrected the themes of aching, groaning and general melancholy tempered with the reality that there is more than this… 

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