Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


Pidgin - Not Pigeon - Sacrifice

We talked for a while tonight, Kev and I did. I found myself confessing to him that my stay at home could use a few more days, and he immediately understood why. My confession seemed to serve as an appropriate segue into questioning me on something we've both experienced, and still do: the evidence of a contentment and confident trust in God's plan to have me living away from home, as well as the possibility that home might never ever be home again.

I told Kev that it's a strange tension. I'm constantly living with the desire to be in Hawai'i, yet when I'm here, I know with all certainty that I don't belong. And to be quite honest, that lack of belonging screams at me.


It's not so much in the fact that I don't live here right now, or that I know it with all my heart. It's not even the possibility that I may never ever live here again. That's something that I wrestle with all the time, yet is familiar enough so that that possiblity doesn't bother me too greatly. No, what shocks my senses is the change. I told Kev that if ignorance is bliss, then home is no longer blissful for me.

At least, not right now.

I perceive things differently. More specifically, I perceive all of life differently. What scares me about home right now is that I see so many people, so much earthly prosperity, yet I wonder how many of them are truly flourishing - spiritually flourishing. It's not a knock on the local culture, or on local people; if anything, I love and value the culture in Hawai'i more than I love and value my own life. But you know what? That still comes second to Jesus. I told Kev that I would gladly throw away my ability to speak pidgin english if it were for the sake of my Lord.

Don't worry, I didn't say that I would embrace a southern accent for Jesus' sake...we're talking about sacrifice here, not torture ;)

My point to Kev was that as much as it may hurt me, I want to die to myself before I live to myself. I part of me aches in admitting that, but I can't help it; that desire is there. Maybe that's part of the ever-present tension, a part of the love-hate relationship I have with my home right now. I see the need, I feel that meeting the need is nearly impossible, and I can't help but wonder if I'm supposed to be a part of meeting that need.

*Sigh* time at home is down to mere hours. Soon, it'll be minutes. This part always hurts...a lot.

posted by Bolo | 1:27 AM
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