whispers

Church hunting is hard work. Church hunting alone is even harder. Two weeks away from my old Church has left me with a Rock Creek-shaped hole in my heart, aching for the presence of that family again. This probably has something to do with the fact that my own family is scattered around the world, but I think I have grown to rely rather heavily on my Church family. Never before have I been intimately connected to a group of such tightly-knit yet outwardly-lovingfamilies. These familial ties are so strong that they burst outward to those of us in need of a bit of encouragement to accept any unconditional love. For the year & a half that I've been a part of that family I have loved them all deeply--but benefited more I think from their love for me. At any rate, I find my good intentions of finding a Church home in the community of my new home leaving me, initially at least, wondering if I should just keep commuting after all . . .or maybe just at least for this next Sunday . . . How gracious is this God who plants within us such haunting longings that can only be whispers of an ultimate Home and the ultimate Family yet to come.