There are moments in life when you pause to reflect on the journey. Too often, I am caught in the whirlwind of the immediate. Pressing needs supplant reflection. The urgent suffocates the significant. And the now, trapped in the hectic tumult of activity and thought, holds me prisoner. When I pause, the fatigue of life catches up with me, and instead of truly being silent in the pause, I succumb to sleep or the sweet nothingness of mindless entertainment. I call it staring at a wall. Whether it is the comforting darkness of true sleep, or the numbness of my television, I disappear. I have spent too long caught in the pendulum, swinging from urgent immediacy to eerily calm nothing. And so I stay. Caught in a place that is no longer my place. Hoping for next steps but always too overwhelmed to take that lunging leap. Only a few short months after I moved to Kuwait, I wrote of caravans. Two recent comments on that post brought me back to read it anew. And I marveled at the caravans that have entered my life, and exited my life, in the span of those months. I find myself now, sitting with nervous energy, waiting and waiting for my caravan. In the pit, I wonder if God is there, if perhaps I might just hear the sound of approaching caravans. There is a whisper, a tremor, and yet nothing. There is hope, but it feels nearly impossible to hold that tender thread. The journey has been sweet, beauty in the divine sovereignty. The past months have been full- of life and travel and friends and family. Mine is not a cry of complaint. It is deep delighted laughter at the journey God has formed for me. But in the midst of laughter is a silent river of questioning tears. It is my mascara worship. It is my questions, my uncertainty, my longing, my pause.
To read the Caravans post, simply go to: http://kuwaitcitygal.blogspot.com/2009/05/caravans.html