God Has Left This Place


I’ve got to have a new strategy for my spiritual life. It’s standing on it’s last broken leg and needs to fall. Every night I go to sleep regretting time I didn’t spend cramming my dreams in a bag like they’re all the pieces of a car that just isn’t put together. I’m just hoping once I have time, I’ll put the car together, and it will finally take me somewhere, but I got a feeling this car is always going to stay pieces.

I can’t talk to God in the same way and can’t spend time with Him the ways I’m used to. It’s flat. My spiritual health can’t be drugged with fresh, trendy teaching. It’s not working. It’s like God has left this place.

When you are going to travel long distances, you pack light. Only, I feel very packed and with too much don’t want-don’t need-outdated crap. Jesus was always going places and never taking anything with him but people.

This is what my instruments are telling me:

I’m drawn towards a life I can’t plan for, a future I can’t explain, a people I don’t know quite how to get to, and it feels backwards. Like the thing that’s drawing me is so strong it’s leaped ahead of the dream. Instead of a dream creating longing, it’s the longing preparing me for a place that is not yet.

My shoes want new ground and are walking on pure desire for ground to be there. And when they get there, they will wait for it to be there.