I just got lost.

I'm in a weird kind of funk this week. One where my head is so full of different thoughts and passions and ideas and convictions and struggles and joys and conversations that I am really struggling to nail down any one theme or arrive at any conclusions. I've been journaling pages and pages and enjoying the wisdom of wonderful mentors, pastors and friends and spending more time than ever simply dwelling with Jesus. On Sunday, the mentoring pastor of my church here preached about John's love for Jesus and how his entire life focus was on again dwelling with him. He was truly oriented toward heaven in a way I'm just beginning to understand.

Sometimes I honestly worry about loving Jesus too much. I worry that if I really give him my whole heart and am only concerned with giving him the glory he deserves that I might miss out on the other things of life. I worry that I'll miss out on opportunities to help discern my 'calling' - experiences that will lead me to a job or a husband or a part of a country where I'll spend the next years of my life. I realize it's completely inconsistent with what love for Jesus actually is: surrendering my life so he can actually make it worth living.

But here I am struggling. Sometimes I feel like I experience joy with God in these little glimmers that pass on before I can really get a look at them. It's like sitting with your back to a window at night while cars drive by and their headlights shine briefly into the room. It's a bit blinding for a moment - you can't help but notice it - but by the time you turn to look at what it is the car's long gone down the road, around a bend and out of sight. Still, the memory remains and it may even take a moment to reorient yourself back to the dim light of the room.

All that to say, I know that unlike a phantom car on a dark night God is ever present with us, and by his Spirit in us. But I find that just as sometimes he allows me to experience him in the fullness of his beauty (which, I have to believe is only the tiniest fraction of his glory because I couldn't possible stand to see the full face of God), he also allows me these momentary glimmers of what the fullness of love and truth will look like.

Perhaps I'm the only one who experiences those shimmers of God's beauty but I find them both incredibly encouraging and frustratingly difficult to handle as I struggle to sort through this mess of thoughts on everything from community to secular humanistic faith to community development to healthcare reform to dating relationships to how to be a good long distance sister to understanding the people of Israel to wondering where 'home' is to wishing I knew more, said less, articulated better and loved more fully.

I think I can illustrate it best with a bike ride I took tonight. I've discovered I can bike with almost no back pain afterwards(!) so I mapped out a great little 3 mile pre-dinner ride around the neighborhood and set off. It was great. Perfect weather, breezy, gorgeous almost-sunset sky.

Then I came to my first turn. It was supposed to be just before the interstate, thus avoiding the heavy traffic and moving into a quiet residential area. Well, I began to doubt my ability to really remember the map and got nervous about being on such a busy road and so I chose to deviate from the plan a bit and took the nearest turn down a residential road.

And so began a 30 min maze of winding back upon myself on curvy roads and dead ends. It was a pleasant enough ride but it began to get a bit dark and I began to get a little worried I might not find my way back home. I normally pride myself on being directionally savvy, but tonight I was getting hopelessly turned around. Even after getting back to the main street I felt disoriented and turned back into the windy neighborhood ( smart huh?). Eventually, after nearly plowing over an elderly couple and getting directions, I was soon to be home. But as you can see:

I took possibly the most round about way home. I was fearful of what was ahead and so instead of trusting what the map said I decided to forge my own way. I eventually got back home but I could have gone much further and seen much more if I hadn't been doubling back on myself so often and been so burdened by fear of being lost. Several times I was just one short street away from the one that would lead me home, but then I chose to turn the opposite direction.

Tonight I feel I'm just a short street away from understanding something more about God and how I might serve him. I'm praying I don't waste time veering aside, thinking I know the best way to learn what he has to teach me.

Humility. Perhaps that's what this all comes down to. Humility and glimmers of truth.