Normal is tough to put on again. Adventure is a flashy coat, and when I wear it, life feels exciting and fresh. It's a light layer, not cumbersome, and I can flit from here to there.
I love airports. I love that feeling of going somewhere, it doesn't matter where. I love seeing new things and watching people, imagining their stories full of love and pain and regret and hope. Where are they going?
Home is hard today. Oh, it is wonderful to be back with my husband. That is a deep joy. But the physical place, my little address of siding and stone, feels tight. Returning to the pot-holed pocked streets of my Mayberry is hard. There doesn't seem to be much spice here, and I want curry and cinnamon and turmeric and tarragon and sage and nutmeg, and gee golly, just throw the whole dang spice rack my way.
This, though, is where the life of Christ intersects my story. In the sink full of dirty dishes. In the voicemails I need to return. In the returning question of "what am I called to be and do here?" Bending down to furrow the soil and dig the hole and place the seed is not glamorous. I strain to recognize the lie that I am believing: over there, somewhere else, the soil would be better, my purpose would be clearer, the joy would be deeper, the reward greater.
Is that lie not just a fist shaken in the face of a Sovereign God? A "what You have given me is not enough" flung at the One who alone gives good things? So I ask for His eye-glasses and peer at these streets again. What life is here that I am quick to miss? His life is here. His contentment is here. His "triumphal procession" that leads me in grace and gives me the chance to "spread everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him."
"Be faithful in the little things, for in them our strength lies. To the good God nothing is little, because He is so great and we are so small. That is why He stoops down and takes the trouble to make those little things for us -- to give us a chance to prove our love for Him. Because He makes them, they are very great. He cannot make anything small; they are infinite."
No, this life is not the stuff of movies and memoirs. It will not be making history any time soon. But it is the life of faithfulness, and it is that to which I have been called.