Today my art takes on a different form, writing.
1. A foreigner; one who belongs to another country.
2. One of another town, city, state or province in the same country.
3. One unknown.
4. One unacquainted.
5. A guest; a visitor.
6. One not admitted to any communication or fellowship.
7. In law, one not privy or party to an act.
I am a stranger. I am one of those people who never seems to fit in a crowd, doesn’t connect well with people, and always seems a little odd. Usually I am comfortable with this, but occasionally I am overwhelmed with the desire to have a place or person with whom I can deeply relate other than my immediate family. Loneliness sets in as I realize finding this place is not so easy. The empty feeling this searching generates is likened to losing a loved one and then seeing reminders of the loss everywhere I go.
One of my happiest days was when I was doing a study of the book of Hebrews and read this verse, I mean really read it:
Hebrews 11:13 These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.
At that moment, I understood. I am a stranger and pilgrim on this earth. This is not really my home. I will never fit here, nor should this be the place I desire to fit. I rejoice in the knowledge that I will be home one day, and I will fit there perfectly. This truth was quite liberating to me.
1 Peter 2:11 Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul;
My struggles are earthly, worldly. They do war against my soul. I will be free of this when I am home.
Ephesians 2:19 Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God;
I do have a home, a household to which I belong. While I am here physically on earth, that does not mean I have to live like this is all there is. My life here and now should reflect my eternal home. My actions and attitudes should tell others where I belong and with whom I fit. I am a Daddy’s girl.
I know this now, but often I don’t reflect my home or my Daddy. Some recurring barriers include PMS, monotony, attitudes of others, weariness, selfishness, stress. When I am dealing with any of these issues, the knowledge and hope that I rest upon can fly right out the window. I either forget about my home altogether, or I just want to go home NOW. I’m done. Just beam me up. At times like these, I feel I should be an added character in The Pilgrim’s Progress, Stranger Stumbles-a-alot, who does a lot of bumbling around just trying to get home, who often sits and cries about wanting to be home rather than getting up and continuing the journey.
Well, at least I know how the story ends. I will arrive one day.