New Views
Whatever is the opposite of wanderlust, that is me. Since I can remember, I have wanted to buy a home with a big porch and live in the same neighborhood until I die.
Instead, I participate in what my parents fondly(?) refer to as “the annual move.”
My twenties were filled with more moves, more roommates, more new ZIP codes to memorize than I care to tally up. And here, in my first months of my thirties, I find myself looking out a new window once again.
My old home, the one where I still have things needing to be moved out of the closet, had the most lovely view of the sky. I planned my curtains and blinds in that room so as to see the largest amount of sky possible. I set up my bed to face the window, and on days where hope seemed impossible to grasp, I would pull the blinds up as far as they would go, crawl into bed and focus on the crisp blue dotted with magical white fluff. From day one, I felt keenly aware that this view would not be forever, and I savored it that much more knowing that this piece of paradise was temporary.
Two days ago I sat on the same bed, looking out a new window, and at first my heart ached for my old view. I wished I could be in that old place just one more time. And then it was like the Spirit came and nudged me forward, towards this new window. The sadness fell away and my eyes refocused.
What a beautiful old home across the street, oh, those flowering trees with white and bright pink blooms, a lovely wooden fence. My new view.
This move feels different. It wasn't precipitated out of necessity but out of choice and a pressing from God. I sense that my bedroom window is not the only new view that God plans to hand me in the coming months. I am expectant for a new view of the Divine himself, a new view of myself and a new view of our love relationship with each other.
I am angsty, but hopeful, about a new view of theology and understanding of all things holy, good, just and right. I am hoping that my “wrestling” for answers may be met with beauty, grace and just some good old hard work and thinking on my part. I am ready for my questioning to stop being an excuse for not searching for truth.
I am determined (and a little cynical) for a new view on rhythm and discipline. I am peeking through the windows of others I respect, people who are gifted at priorities and balance and love for self and others, gleaning any wisdom I can. I am listening and watching and letting accountability be redefined as more than what I did with my non-existent boyfriend last night. I am looking for a new view, knowing that often the hard thing is the better thing for me and for the ones I so deeply love.
So today I will look out my new window, letting my mind wander back to all of the old windows I adored, and then refocusing my eyes on what is ahead. My dog, Jack, will sit beside me, a tangible reminder of a God who moves with me to each new window. I will let my eyes come alive with the gorgeous blue house across the street and the purple flowers in the big pot on the porch. I will listen to the sounds of the city around me, sounds I have dreamed of for years, and I will remember that God is faithful in every place and that there is beauty to be seen through every window, if only we will let the Spirit nudge us forward to see.
Photo by Danielle Dolson on Unsplash
