Loneliness and Longing

This morning I am filled with longing. Longing for the future, longing for the past, longing for the God's I've recreated to be Himself again.

Sometimes I think we long because we want to be part of something, to be knowing, seen, appreciated, understood. Sometimes when I look at a beautiful scene in nature, I long to become part of it. When I walk in the woods with falling autumn leaves, I want to be a tree, swaying in majesty and pristine and watching little girls pick up my leaves and press them in her story book. In meadows, I want to be one with the hills, to wrap myself up in the dew-wet grassy blanket, and cover myself with the hills. I want to be part of what I see and call beautiful. I want to be beheld and affirmed. I want to be known. I want someone to reach down into the deep place of my pain and hunger and affirm what is there. I want to hear, "It's okay, Amy. You're okay."

This morning I'm reminded again, though, that this loneliness is a season. It's not a problem needing a solution; a sickness needing a cure; a wound needing a bandage. It's a season. See, the thing about longing is that we're remind that we're not okay. We're not okay. We're broken. And I think loneliness is one of the only places we remember this. When we're laying in bed late at night with the ceiling as our only friend offering no comfort... When we're driving in the car and reach for our phone so we don't have to sit along with our thoughts... When we're resort to facebook again to numb the reality of no friends in our reality... we're reminded of something better, of a place more whole, a time more mended.

We're reminded of heaven.

So, here's to loneliness and longing. To this season, this journey. May they awaken to something more.