There are times...

There are times when I think that I am losing touch with reality...a longing arises in my soul such that my heart beats faster, I lose my ability to focus on anything but the thoughts that race through my mind, and I feel terribly sad. Not depressed. Sad. And excited. At the same time. It's impossible to describe this feeling or the intensity of it.

I think of the relationships I have developed over the years, the amazing parade of people that have entered my life, and not really left but seem to be something of a distant memory.

I think of the places I have been, the things I have seen, the experiences which have captivated me, which still hold me captive, and beckon me...

It reminds me of the longing Paul had to see the Roman Christians (Rom 1:11), the Thessalonican believers (I Thess 2:17) and theirs to see him (I Thess 3:6) and his longing to see Timothy (II Tim 1:4).  It occurred to me this morning that this longing will never leave me. And I don't want it to.

The American Heritage dictionary defines longing as a strong persistent yearning or desire...

This morning, as I was listening to a song on Pandora, a picture of the musician was there - moving in that slow up and down cadence.  And there was a look in his eyes that reminded me of the longing I feel.  it was a distant look.

And that was when it hit me, the nature of this longing.  It was something I hadn't experienced very deeply since returning from the mission field. It was a longing for a closeness to the Lord.  There is an emptiness I cannot describe.  I don't believe I am out of God's will.  I don't believe he is neglecting me.  I don't believe he has abandoned me.  I just don't feel the dependence on him that I felt in the mission field. And I long for that complete, unqualified, unapologetic dependence, not talked about, but intimately experienced.

Things are easy here!  So easy! I can pick up the phone and call friends.  I can run into town and get whatever I need, whenever I want. Medical care is easily accessible.  Churches abound in whatever flavor you want. And yet everyone seems miserable. We celebrate comfort and ease as if it was some reward for hard work and diligent pursuit, and then argue over silly things like mask mandates, inadequate supplies of toilet paper, and the future of the spotted owl...

Even though we never lived in the bush, it nevertheless took a great deal of effort, and an even greater deal of dependence upon God Almighty, just to get through the day when we lived in Kenya, in Ghana, and even in Thailand. There was little familiarity.  Communication was often strained. Safety was generally problematic. And yet there was a peace. A closeness to the Lord upon whom we depended so completely!

And so how does one experience that utter hopelessness in life and absolute dependence on the Lord when things are so easy, convenient, safe, proper, and commodious? 

How does one capture that sense of adventure in the wilderness when all is settled, developed, refined, and civilized?  I'm not sure, but I am sure of this, that this settled way of life with it's rugged independence, and ease of accessibility is not what God intends for us...

There is a good and Godly fear.  There is an appropriate and God-honoring discomfort.  There is a God-given longing, not for a particular place, not for a particular people, but for a particular sense of absolute dependence on God for every breath we take.  And the longing will not be fulfilled until he comes again...