Runaway

I have what my roommate Sam and I affectionately refer to as a "gypsy spirit." I do not like to be still for very long, nor do I like to be in the same place for very long. I want to get up and see the world. I want to go places and do things and meet people. 

I have in me, constantly, the desire to drop everything and just go. Where? I never know, and it never really matters. I just want to go. 

In part, this is a really good thing. I am good at answering God's call to drop everything and follow him to the ends of the earth. What I am not good at, however, is his call to stay put. 

Because at heart I am a runner. I always have been. 

When things are hard, I have an almost overpowering desire to leave. To escape to the wild, quiet places I hear God the best and leave the rest of the world behind. I am loathe to make commitments and I hold most people at arms length so that I do not have to really, truly trust them. I leave myself an escape route, always. 

It's no surprise. I never had a home I wanted to come back to at the end of the day, so the act of traveling and roaming is home to me. 

God is clearly challenging this. He is calling me to stay put, to stick it out, to stand firm and not only love well but also to let myself be loved well in return.

 I am thankful for it, but I hate every second of it. 

So, I am running away for the weekend. 

But I'll be back.