ache

I'm feeling a little unsettled this evening. Many of this day's hours have been spent in the car, listening to music, sermons, and the news. Some time has been spent in prayer and thoughtful wandering, but, at the moment, I am left with a sickening feeling of discontent. Today was a wedding shower for my brother's fiance, Linsay, so I drove to Charleston and had a wonderful time seeing Linsay and so many of the other girls again. Rebekah and Jen did a great job with the shower, the food was good, the conversation was pleasant, and Linsay seemed to have a great time. Upon leaving the shower I went to Kristi and Matt's, enjoyed hot apple cider in front of the fire place, and took in the beauty of the Christmas tree. Yet, as I was talking to Kristi about this and that, I felt tears well up in my eyes and a lump rise in my throat. I just wanted to cry for some reason, and I probably would have if Matt hadn't been there. I don't know where this melancholy comes from. Maybe it was because I got to see my mom today but really didn't get to talk to her. Maybe it was because I got to see several people today but didn't really get to talk to them. Perhaps it was that all-too-common feeling of displacement. I'm welcome in so many places, but I don't know anywhere that I'm completely settled. Some days it feels as if I have many homes - here, LeRoy, Charleston, Crete; for some reason today it felt as if I had none. The three-hour drive home seemed insurmountable this evening. I called Kristen and talked for awhile, hoping that in conversation with her time would disappear and I would be off the road soon. It was good while the conversation lasted, and I love that girl to the ends of the earth, but when I hung up the phone I felt as lost as ever. As I was listening to the radio the other day, I think it was Chris Rice I heard talk about "the ache," a vague yet acute emotional pain, seeming to have nor origin or logic, that takes ahold of us, makes us tearful, and sets in our being a longing for something nameless and elusive. I feel that ache today. It's loneliness, disappointment, hope, love, sorrow, waiting, longing all at once. It's wanting something more, wanting someone more, yet no one and nothing on this earth seems to satisfy it. I wonder if this longing is part of the human experience, perhaps in part because we are not in our heavenly home yet, perhaps in part because our hearts and minds are continually seduced by that which is not of God. I'm learning, though, that no one but God is going to bring me rest tonight, no one is going to soothe this dull throbbing, no one is going to turn my discontent into thankfulness but my Father tonight. I really don't feel like turning to God. My first impulse is to bury myself under the covers and feel sorry for myself (although I can't pinpoint a reason to be unsatisfied right now), yet, it's God I want, it's God I need, and Him I will seek and find tonight.