recurring post

About once every 3 months, I think I write about the same thing. Essentially how I attempt to find satisfaction in things here on earth, but don't. And then the realization that the reason is because true fulfillment is not offered here. It is offered only in the full presence of Jesus Christ, and the complete eradication of sin.

There are many things in the last week that I've been disappointed about. One is the wilderness. How I LOVE the outdoors. How I LOVE to travel and discover things in nature. To feel the elements. To breathe the air. To hear a roaring stream pouring over boulders.

The Smokey Mountains are among the most beautiful I've ever witnessed. I spent the weekend renewing my Wilderness First Responder Certification. 70 degress in the mountains of East TN is like heaven. But not quite enough like it, I have found.

I remember having this talk with my bro once. And I think somewhere in there he quoted C.S. Lewis. Perhaps it was the Weight of Glory. I remember almost crying because the words rang so true. And now I feel the same. I walk in the midst of a forrest so tall. A breeze so perfectly soft. The smell of the air so fresh. The sounds almost silent. But no matter how beautiful. No matter how great the experience. It is not enough. The problem lies within me. I want so badly to be a part of that beauty. To go deeper and deeper into it. To immerse myself in it. To speak the language of nature which points so directly to its Creator. But I do not find a home even there. So I explore more. I walk farther. I learn more. I run faster. I climb higher. I travel deeper. I think more. And still. Whatever I am looking for in it alludes me. I cannot grasp it. I cannot take it in completely. It cannot take me in completely.

There is joy, but it is a joy of missing. It is a snapshot of home, but home is still a journey away. It's the same with awakening. I open my eyes from a dream. The visions of a house I grew up in, family surrounding me, the feeling of someone reaching out to me. Not only to touch me, but somehow entering my very gut and placing in it peace and rest and joy and resolve. Permanence. Freedom. But I awake. To things that are almost enough. But aren't.
This is called my Longing for Home. Which I'm sure I have titled several blogs before. It never leaves. Sometimes it is a happy longing, and sometimes it is bitter. But always it does the trick in reminding me that the presence of Jesus Christ is what I am after.