Every few years, I grow restless.
I begin to believe that a more exciting life exists in another town or in another career. My soul feels sick inside, and my imagination tells me I’m living the wrong life. My instincts tell me to beg my husband to take our family and flee. Everything in me believes something must change.
This week, I hear the gentle admonition, Do not flee. Do not change.
I’m learning instead to settle deeper into my own soul. The restless heart isn’t a cry for new and different; it’s a longing for truth. It’s a longing to go even further into the restlessness till you strike pure gold.
I’m not there yet. I write things in my journal about whether I’d stake my life on the truth that Jesus brings the life that is truly life; that you lose your life and find it; that you come to God and never thirst again; and that the restlessness is there to drive you to a different kind of vibrant living.
Yes. Yes, these things are true.
Do not flee. Go deeper in.
I’m wandering the garden, and I see the stakes around my blueberry bush. I observe the impenetrable netting that keeps the birds away. The beautiful bush is trapped on all sides except one: beneath her. So she sends down roots so unimaginably strong. And within the cage, she produces the kind of fruit only possible here.
After all, these boundaries are protection. They exist to ensure her fruitfulness.
When I feel restless, I send down roots instead. I go deeper into the very soil I think holds me back, and I rejoice in the pleasant boundaries around my life.
Do you have restless years?