Without warning, I was trapped in the book of Ecclesiastes. All was vanity. I found myself absentmindedly repeating the words again an again: “There must be more. Surely we were born for something more. More than waking in order to work, working in order to eat, eating and sleeping or order to wake and work again. More than graduating to have a career, marrying to have children so they could eventually graduate, work, marry and have children of their own.
The cycle of survival wasn’t enough. I already knew Jesus as my Lord and Savior… what more could there be? I hadn’t merely inherited my faith in God. I had searched and struggled, scrapped and clawed my way to a living walk with Him. I still sensed there was more. ~ Victoria Brooks
More. Have you felt it, too? Have you longed for more, not only when things are going wrong, but when everything is very right?
In quiet moments of prayer and meditation, and in joyful moments of worship and fellowship and blessing; even then, I carried with me the sense that there was more.
More than waking in order to work, working in order to eat, eating and sleeping or order to wake and work again. More than graduating to have a career, marrying to have children so they could eventually graduate, work, marry and have children of their own.
Like Victoria, I’d grown up with and into my faith. It was real. I wasn’t looking for a moment or an experience or a feeling. I wasn’t actively looking at all. Still, I could feel a tentative tug at the hem of my heart. Was there more?
I kept coming back to the words of Augustine.
You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.
My heart was restless. I realized that I’d confused contentment with complacency and my version of abiding was biding time until heaven.
Would it do? Yes. Was there more? Yes.
I began a journey that, by its nature, requires there be no ending this side of home. It was, and is, a journey of grace. Thank you for traveling with me.