Further In, Further Back.

Friday morning should be just like any other morning. Not so in my week. God is good to me. :)

This morning I find myself waking up at a good family friend's home where I am housesitting. The night was late, the morning was long and slow as I talked long and slow with my Jesus on the porch while watching the sky cry and thunder. It was glorious.

One of my responsibilities here is gathering the eggs the chickens lay daily. Today was my first day on the job, and boy and am I a city girl. I promised myself I wouldn't squeal or grimace but both happened almost immediately. I thought it would be a cool thing to eat the eggs I gathered for breakfast like my friends recommended. I would have. But they were much less appealing after I shoved a hen off of them and had to pick up the warmed and grey-ish eggs from underneath her. Gross.

While I was out gathering eggs, I locked myself out. Yes, that is typical of me, but I still thought I would make it at least through the weekend without doing that. The best part? I was not fully dressed (I'm in the country ... it's okay.) and I had no phone or key or any sort of means of communication. Awesome. So what did I do? Well, this is where I brag on myself because I did something a country girl would do (and I have always really wanted to be able to consider myself a country girl). I remembered that I left the screen door cracked from when I went inside after my talk with Jesus. I went around back and realized the porch was way over my head and there was no way for me to climb up it ... unless I got a ladder out of the garage. And I did. It was still over my head even when I stood on the very last step with the picture of the man falling off the ladder and lightning coming out of his neck indicating his death. But I pulled myself up and did a little victory dance with the dog. I'm so tough.

Throughout this entire escapade, I imagined my friend getting a phone call from a neighbor telling her someone was trying to break into her house. I worried about that for a minute. Then I imagined my friend's response. Knowing me, she would probably respond, "Oh, that's Amy. Yeah, she would do that." I'm trying to convince myself that she just knows how tough I am.

One a more serious topic, I talked to Jesus this morning about some pretty significant stuff. I'm lonely. Well, lonely might not be the right word. I'm aching for companionship, maybe? I watch Bethany and David (her fiance) and Bethany J and Chris (her fiance) and my parents and all my married friends and ... well, I want that. Most days, if I'm honest, it's a longing I'm well aware of if I would stop pushing it down. But I'm real good at pushing. I don't want to be left here alone. Like last night. I'm in this huge house filled with pictures of family and dates and births and birthdays and dress up and friends and memories. And while I have that in my family, I still want more. Selfish? Probably (that would also be so like me). But it's true. It's true this morning and it'll be true tomorrow.

So this is what I talked to Jesus about: I think there's a longing inside of this longing. Behind it, further in, farther back. I'm fairly positive when I crave companionship and a family of my own I'm craving something bigger, higher, more profound. I think it's Jesus.

I've said this before. But this time I really mean it. The "think" part, I mean. I think it's Jesus I'm craving. I'd like to believe that. I'd like to follow it even more.

There was something about the thunderstorm this morning. As I told Him about this longing and how I longed to hear His voice, He just rumbled thunder at me. I could be making this up or reading into things, but I think He was calling to me. I think He was calling me to Himself, my something bigger, higher, more profound. I think He was calling to me, "Further in, further back."

Either that or it was just some water condensation in the air and some clouds moving a shifting the air. No big deal. That would be the natural response, the scientific response. To believe it was divine communication would be wistful and romantic, wouldn't it. That understanding should be make us scrutinize, skeptical, wary.

But I'm the wistful and romantic kind. And I refuse to be otherwise.

What was I saying about companionship?

That is so Him.