Hi Loves,
It's been a while. Truth be told, I have blogged but haven't posted. I've written but not shared.
Tucked away in my draft file of my blog are posts.
Today I share.
Did you notice my title? 'In the spirit of summer in Canmore'. That's where I live now. In the spirit. Okay, I meant Canmore. Wouldn't it be lovely though to simply live in the Spirit? I want to.
So the mountains are home and the tourists are my personal hunting 'game'. Only because they drive 20 km all the time. I used to be one of those but mama's holding the bow and arrow now.
It's beautiful here and not just the rocky scenery. When you walk by people on the trails, they are always smiling. Sometimes not even at you. Just smiling as they walk. They are in pure bliss and eventhough they live here, the wide-spread-love-struck mugs tell me nature is new to them each day. I like that and running with the theme of living in the Spirit, I figure that's how I would look if I existed in Jesus all day, everyday. What a thought.
This has not been the case lately. I know because I can feel it and I've been told it. My sunshine is hidden and "hiding it under a bushel" doesn't sound so crazy because it's been my reality. Not on purpose. It's been a sneaky endeavour letting circumstance overshadowing my rays.
I guess the posters in the doctors office really do have purpose because when I read the large print of symptoms of depression while waiting for the doctor, I realized the lack of light.
Stress, confusion, worry. My lack of luster revealed.
How can that be so in the Rocky Mountains of Canada? I pretty much live in the definition of beauty and yet inwardly sadness, sorrow, something else that starts with an s so this thought can be more poetic. I live in a peice of art.
Home.
Funny thing is I don't feel like I have a home. I have lots of wonderful people who welcome me into their homes. I have a house. I dwell but I just can't say I know what "home" feels like. I've been close, I think, once but I'm still in search of it.
Until two weeks ago.
Pouring my heart out to friend I told her how everything these days makes me angry, irritated or hopeless. A road I never wanted to travel down. There is no room on these roads for Christians. At least there shouldn't be.
I told her how even though I desired to move to Canmore, I still haven't found a peace of settlement and that I fear no matter where I go it'll be the treasure I never get my hands on. Discontentment can be really ugly.
Suddenly, out of my mouth, a thought probably not my own. "You know where I feel like home is? When I sing. When I worship. That's home and I want to live there."
I'm going to try to. To allow wherever I am to be home through the connection I know to be music to something bigger than myself. To something bigger than my world. To something bigger and better than my selfish endeavour to create my own perfect circumstance. I can't describe how right it feels even just to sing nothing along to music. It looks like a big sigh, a little glow and a wide-spread-love-struck mug.
