Finding Home ...

A quick trip back to Los Angeles, a long overdue read of Brennan Manning’s "Ragamuffin Gospel," a long run on the beach, and a good glass of wine has caused me to tackle the feat of breaking a long pause in my writing. So, with the break in the silence, I thought I would start this site up so that I would maybe actually stick to writing consistently again.

There is something about writing that keeps one honest and in tune with oneself. So, as much as I hate the term "blogging," (it sort of reminds of those ridiculous "pogs" that were somehow popular once) I’m jumping on the 21st Century bandwagon and blabbing off to the universe on an obscure web site. But, hey, who knows, someone might read this one day and say to themselves "wow, what a masterpiece!" or better yet, "wow, what a colossal waste of my time!" Either way, someone will have read it, and the blogging world is a better place because of it.

I moved to Colorado from LA about 10 months ago and since then a whirlwind of God inspired changes has wreaked havoc and joy on my life. Career, education, relationships, location, hobbies, friends, and even dog preferences were turned completely on its head from my short time that I have lived in this beautiful state. But, no matter how stretching, draining, confusing, and frustrating any of the changes that have taken place have been, my trip back to LA clearly confirmed that my move to Colorado was completely Divine. I really have known that all along, but visiting the smog-ridden, cluttered, suffocating city and coming face to face (literally) with some of my old so-felt "demons" confirmed it a hundred times over.

In a way, I kind of felt like getting on a plane to come home to a place that I loved was like giving the middle finger to a city that was emblematic of one of the most trying times in my life. I really have nothing against the city itself, but the memories and habits it evokes deserves "the bird." And by the way, sometimes I truly believe the only expression that is appropriate is the bird. But, for the sake of the airport ground workers, I did not flip off the city from the window of the plane. It was really more just of a mental gesture.

So, here I am in Colorado having the time of my life and I feel home. God has sincerely provided in all aspects of life here for me. Lately, however, I have been challenged to look inwardly for that feeling of "home" instead of mere physical location. I may be happy about where I live, but He has forced me to ask myself where am I really living in my heart, soul, and mind. Brennan Manning gives a beautiful perspective of this idea in his book I’m reading:

"In our society we have many homeless people sleeping not only on the streets, in shelters or in welfare hotels, but vagabonds who are in flight, who never come home to themselves … They have become strangers to themselves, people who have an address but are never at home, who never hear the voice of love or experience the freedom of God’s children."

I think Manning nails it here. There are so many of us that are such vagabonds in our hearts, souls, and minds never allowing love and grace to truly grant us freedom from ourselves. It’s so easy to enslave ourselves without realizing it with fears, insecurities, overly-analytical processing, and lofty stipulations, but what God offers us as His children is a HOME void of all those things. (I realize that all this sounds very Christian jargon-y, but it all just came out suddenly. Apologies.)

Regardless, I have a lot to learn on this particular subject and I’m looking forward to finishing Manning’s book. It feels good to be writing again. I just hope it doesn’t take another trip to LA, a book, a run, and wine to do the trick. I’m going to be broke if that is the case.

Also, I had written a title before I wrote this blurb and now I realize that I have gotten off on such a tangent that the title no longer makes sense. Changing it now.

Note to self: write title post writing the blog.