We don't live in GA anymore and in one sense haven't had a "home" since we sold our house. No matter how much you decorate, apartments by their very nature are temporary. Heart connections exist in every place we've been and returning to our current location that houses our ever-shrinking possessions doesn't lessen them. Our children have no connection with the last three (counting this one) places we've lived and so my emotions are confused whenever I return to somewhere we've called home. The tension of memory vs. reality is quite exhausting and makes me realize the wisdom of why college deans tell parents not to let their children come home for a while. It takes time to invest yourself in a new place and if you aren't forced to, some might not do so. I would probably fall into that category and I'm mindful of that as I choose when or if to return to former places of residence. And yet, when that's where family is, not going back isn't an option...thus the tension I will more than likely forever live in.
I probably just made no sense trying to explain that and greater minds than mine have wrestled with that very tension of living here while knowing it's not the final destination. Speaking of which, I finally started reading the book, "To Be Told" by Dan Allender.
As I read the following section, I found it sort of helped give words to what I've been experiencing:
The Bible tells us that those who seek God will one day be given a new name:
"Everyone who is victorious will eat of the manna that has been hidden away in heaven. And I will give to each one a white stone, and on the stone will be engraved a new name that no one knows except the one who receives it."
The passage also reminds us that we are living in a world in-between. We are between two names. We know our name; we don't know what our new name will be. The greatest tragedy of life is that most of us, including many of us who are deeply spiritual, forget that we don't yet know our true name.
The book is about learning the story of our life as it's been written so far by God and then joining Him as He finishes writing it. I'm pretty sure the events of our now nomadic lives are playing a very significant part in discovering why God has written things the way He has. It's a journey I'm looking forward to taking and at the same time am terrified to do so. I expect we'll be chatting about it together along the way.
Moving on to a totally unrelated topic, I stayed with Matthew while I was in GA and got to spend some time with his cat, Simba. Simba is just over a year old and he's the first boy cat to grace any of the Jones households. Kit is 14 and Ellie is 7 so they're not nearly as energetic nor as troublesome as Simba is. But there's a part of me that secretly loved watching him misbehave because he lives life with such reckless abandon, you can't help but smile. He's actually a good cat; he just missed out on the discipline stage since he joined a three-male roommate household as a kitten.
For those of you who think a cat is just a cat and the best ones are dead ones, I counter with the following pictures.
This is Kit, the senior cat citizen of the family and her needs are few. All she wants is her lap of choice to sleep on (usually mine), a little food, and now that we've moved, some time on the porch in the sun.
This is Ellie the Wondercat. All she needs is for someone to notice that she's cute, a little food, her pillow to sleep on, and Tiffany. Actually, she could probably do without everything except Tiffany.
Simba gets along fine by himself because he's forced to do so most of the time due to Matthew's schedule. He likes to fetch (really!!) and you know you've been accepted when Moosey is deposited outside your door during the night while you slept. I'm pretending he was sad to see me leave.
With the 4th of July almost here and baseball's All Star game right around the corner, I find it necessary to briefly mention that the Braves are still hanging in there only 4 games behind the Phillies. One of our B teams, the Orioles, are coming to town for the weekend so we're forced to cheer against them this time. Many apologies to our Baltimore friends, but some things are a necessity.