the un-belonging life

November 14, 2011

Consider if you will that you’ve overheard a conversation between a few of your closest friends or family members (or both) and you were the topic of discussion.  Suppose that the picture of you that was painted in that conversation was completely foreign to your view of yourself.  Not necessarily better or worse, just different.  How would such an impression influence you and your relationships?

Not that this has happened to me – it hasn’t.  But if I took a snapshot of what my life looked like 60-70 days ago and took one today the two pictures would have very little in common.  Since the beginning of September I started a new career, my boys started in a new school, my wife was in a serious accident, and we moved to a new neighborhood to be closer to my work.  The list actually goes on for a while but just that last one (moving) is enough to drive people to the cliffs of insanity.  Moving pretty much stinks. But there are a ton of life metaphors. The main 1 for me: less is definitely more when it comes to things.   So much has happened in our lives that I barely recognize any of it.

As I sat alone on the floor of our empty kitchen considering the the past seven years living there I had a great sense of sadness and regret.  I have so much to be thankful for!  Why these feelings?  Why can’t I simply be grateful for what God has done in my life and for my family?  So I sat in that silence and those feelings for some time and this is what slowly occurred to me:  the seeds of discontent quickly take root in the soil of entitlement.  “What?!”  I thought.  Why entitlement and what exactly do I think I’m entitled to?  I’m not exactly sure.  A life of ease and comfort?  For everything to work my way?

Overall I think we all suffer from this… an intense feeling of un-belonging.  We want so badly for this place to be our home and for there to be some sense of permanence in our life.  But we know better.  So whether I recognize the picture that other people are painting of me or even my own circumstances, this I know:  I really don’t belong here.  No, I belong to the One who Authored this crazy thing we call life.  I also know that to remove these seeds of discontent my heart needs plowing and that hurts.

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