Finding my way home

I began writing this post a few nights ago.

I am sitting on the couch, the clock saying, "11:06." The music's going, it's Sunday night, late. My family are all in different rooms. I went to church yesterday, and I cried.

I cried a much needed cry.

And I'm not sure much what I'm thinking these days. I don't really know what's on my mind. I'm having trouble seeing well in the midst of my chaos and spiritual warfare. Life's in its ups and downs, and I'm in mine too. Laughing and loving my friends so much, and then trudging home from school with a heavy heart. Up, down. Over, under. Praying one night, feeling more lost than ever in the morning. Filled with worry, struggling to choose trust. I'm clinging so tight to some things, and I just can't seem to fully let go.

To open my palms,

as I know God asks of me.

Where am I? Who am I?

In my bed, I hid, in the dark. Feeling lonely. Racked with a sudden worry.

And then,
in the words of the music playing beside me,

His peace came in.

Strong as sunlight.

And there's something that I need to remember: in all my ups, downs, falls, rises-
His words and ways stand strong. It's so hard to believe sometimes. Hard to stop the pounding of my disbelieving, anxious heart. I don't know where I am or how I am, but I know something better.

My King is unchanging.

And thank goodness He's the one in charge, not me.

I know this is jumpy post and my thoughts are a jumble. I'm lost. (Are you lost too?)

But sometimes,
I think it takes a certain amount of
lostness

to find God.

To find the way home.

Here I am, struggling to see, unsure of who I am or how my life truly is, but leaning as deeply as I am able into that place of lostness that helps me to be found.

For this is all I know to do. This is the only way home.