Sometimes life can be pretty distracting, pulling us in many directions. Sometimes days like that string themselves together like a barrage of artillery fire. When I feel like that, I tend to respond in one of two ways. Sometimes I purposely distract myself even further, burying my head in a book or chilling out in front of the TV. Before I know it, the night is over and I’m headed for bed, blocking out the events of the day and kind of hiding from the next day.
But sometimes I remember to take a deep breath, to just sit and think through the day (or days). And then I’m in a place where I can invite God to speak to me. Not to see how I measure up or where I’ve failed, but rather to recognize his presence and work in my life. To just kind of curl up in his lap of love and acceptance. And that’s when I feel like I’m finally home.
Sometimes the old saying, “home is where the heart is” rings truer than we realize. If God speaks to us through our hearts and we’re not taking time to be aware of what’s going in our hearts, well . . . where are we? How well do we know our truest selves? And how often are we willing to take a look into our hearts and see where we really are? How are we feeling? Where are we needing to make changes or what changes are we needing to accept? What is God wanting to teach us?
We may not be off squandering our inheritance but sometimes we fail to live in awareness of it. I stray whenever I lose touch with who I am, when I get away from my God-intended purpose, when I lose sight of what God is doing in my life. Coming home, I’m learning, is not just for prodigal offspring. Over and over again, God invites us to come home – to listen to our hearts, to his Spirit as he speaks into our lives.