I was sitting in church today and was very suddenly very overcome with emotion. It was vacillating between gratitude, assurance, and restlessness.

Gratitude because not long ago, I was more than willing and ready to walk away from the Church.
I was done.
I was done, but God was not.

I saw firsthand that he could handle my doubt, my hurt, my anger, and my “done-ness”. He gave me a wide berth to ask questions, to yell, to cry, to explore.
And then, he subtly began pulling me back. There were people in my path who welcomed me back with open hearts and arms when I was certain they would not. He gave me what  I needed.
I didn’t need more church.
I didn’t need more theology.
I didn’t need more repentance.
I didn’t need more guilt.

I needed to wrestle.

Theology didn’t rescue me.
Theology didn’t love me.
Theology didn’t pull me back.

Grace did.

Grace watched me walk out the door and left a light on hoping I would return.
And, I did.

I walked away intending to never come back. I walked away to struggle in solitude. I walked away not to hide but to truly be seen for who I was. And I was. “You are a God of seeing, for here I have seen Him who looks after me” Genesis 16:13

I came back unsure if I had a place at the table, but found an entire spread laid out just for me.
Waiting.
I feel gratitude for the place at the table prepared for me in love.

Assurance because for the past few weeks I’ve looked long and hard at my life — what I want from it and what I want it to give to others.
And I’ve come full circle.
The “calling” I abandoned when I walked out of the door still burns brightly.
More brightly, perhaps, than it has before. And today, sitting in my favorite place, I no longer questioned it. I acknowledge it fully and seek to fulfill it.

And then. . .restlessness.
My old friend.

That part of me that searches the innermost parts of who I am.
That part of me that constantly asks, “Yeah, but what IF?”
That part of me that sometimes almost always says, “So what?”
That part of me that cannot stand to be stagnant.
That part of me that keeps asking questions.
That longs to be in a constant cycle of change and regrowth.

That part of me where courage shouts above the clamor of fear and says, “This is not enough! There is more of you to be seen. There is more of you to discover. There is more of you to offer”.

It’s always hardest for me to conclude.
I guess because this isn’t really finished. It’s a dynamic reckoning of who I am and who I want to become.
It doesn’t resolve because I’m not finished resolving. Kind of like one long dissonant harmonic chord that just keeps sustaining. Eventually, it’ll resolve.
But, until then. . .

Peace be the journey.