Anywhere...but here.

I’m standing at the crossroads,
with my thumb in the air,
just hoping to get,
anywhere...but here.

I’m finding there’s no footsteps out of this place.

I’m looking for angels, searching for faces,
Clinging to a few dog-eared books and quickly packed suitcases.
Hands in the air, whispering prayers,
to get anywhere...but here.

“His way is in the sea, and his path in the great waters,
and his footsteps are not known” -David (Psalms 77)

The way and work and people of the Spirit was described by Jesus as similar to wind. There is a sailing nature to living by the Spirit. It's not a life without anchor, or compass or navigational charts. It's not a aimless, purposeless or pointless meandering but a disciplined abandonment to chasing the Wild Goose as the old Celtic Christians use to talk about. This is a path of mystery...a walk of openness and humility. To always be growing, always moving and always rooted...like an old tree that drinks waters and bears fruit...the older it gets, the more it sends it's new life abroad and drops fruit below. It is reproducing and becoming something great in its unmovablness and in its recreation. This is true of walking in Jesus.

Never content and yet, always at peace.