A Place to Rest

This week I have been feeling an extraordinary tired and have been searching my soul for a recognizable me. The last couple of weeks have been filled with movement and giving, a life lived, for the most of which, on the road. Now, I'm a big fan of the adventure of movement. I love long drives, endless wanders around Manhattan, and work that takes me "on location". I drive a truck that is ready at any given moment to have bags thrown in the back and aimed toward a setting sun. However, as any road wander can tell you, sometimes you just want to go home, gather those you love, and just be.

Jack Kerouac, the patron saint of all those who hear the call of the open spaces, felt that without "hearth and home" his writing becomes a "peculiarly un-human" endeavor "waged on stormy and unimaginable seas". His point being that without a place (and a person) to call home, a man grows weary and ends up with something resembling human life but is void of the depth needed to do great things.

We need a place from which we draw our strength, recharge, get inspired, and rest. We can spend our days doing amazing things, but if at the end of the day we find ourselves still on the streets, our souls are never fed and our spirit lacks the sustainability needed to keep moving. Like a homeless person wandering without purpose, we eventually lose our mind and ourselves.

What is home for you? Is it a special place; a coffee shop or garden? Is it your house or a room that you have designed to look like you? Is it a person that you can't wait to see after your work is done or an activity that renews your soul?

I know what it looks like for me. It's a place that I can sit. It's a place that has a room with a shelf of my favorite books and a stereo that I play music and some of my favorite art on the wall. There is a dog and a yard where my kids can play and feel safe. There is a dining room table for friends to join me for dinner and a kitchen to cook. There is late nights and early mornings lingering in bed.

Sometimes it is a coffee shop, or having coffee on my porch, or a really good story, or a fine cigar, or some live jazz, or a walk through NYC.

And yes, I'd like to share. There is something to be said for being with someone who sees you and loves you. Someone whose face you see in the windshield makes any journey filled with strength.

When was the last time you've been there?

Jesus said "I go to prepare a place for you and I'll come back for you, so that you and I will be together".

He knows we are all looking for a place to call home...for now I draw on the strength the graces given me as I take this truck farther down the line.

live to tell

There is an old hymn called "I Love to Tell the Story." In it the writer expresses his passion for telling the story "...of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love." It had been a while since I had heard it. I remember singing it as a kid...people always sang it with an evangelistic fervor. It's a lovely song, but always conjured up images of someone constantly talking about faith to coworkers, family, friends, or even the waitress pouring your coffee. I've met many of these people in my life who feel it is their mission, like a spiritual Ari Gold, always trying to land the next gig for their client. It just so happens that their client is Jesus.

Today this hymn came to me differently. Maybe it's the season I find myself. It feels I have been fighting to survive for the last couple of years. The fight has taken it's toll. This begins a season of rebuilding. I believe that there was a message there for me.

I love to do lots of things. In my heart I'm a cowboy. I want to be outside, work with my hands, come home to a warm house with love inside, drive to town to go dancing, and do again every day. I'd love to be a rock star, run a bookstore, or even own a coffee shop. I'm a man that likes to step back and see what I've built, feel the burn in my muscles and the cuts on my hands, and call it a day well lived.

But, I'm a story teller. Specifically, His story. I've always been good at it. I have the ability to see and translate the "old, old, story" in a way that makes sense in the human heart.

If a man is blessed when he does what he is designed to do, then regardless of the challenges of my life I need to tell stories.

It's a story I love to tell...

I can still be a cowboy. I think a Stetson works with my collar. I'm promised that if I seek the Kingdom then my heart will find the things it desires, so I saddle up and ride into the desert with a message of love.

It's who I am