RESTLESSNESS – Pt. 4

I’ve been up one side of the ferris wheel and down the other in my search for some answers about restlessness. I’m not sure I’m any closer to resolution. But, I think I’m closer to being able to live with the word.

While my gut instinct was to eschew restlessness as a symptom of discomfort within my skin, I’m now content to live into the word. In fact, I might even begin wearing it as a badge of honor.

You see, over the past few years, I’ve found that my friendships have shifted. Give me a dollar for every friend who has exclaimed, “You’ve changed,” and I’d be a fat, happy (and restless) retiree. Interesting thing is that some of the folks spoke those words with derision. Sad to say, they don’t talk to me anymore. In some cases, it was my choice; in others, theirs. (And, my snarky self thinks we’re both better off for that.)

Then there are the folks who spoke the words, “You’ve changed,” with a smile in their voice and a backslap in their hearts. They’re the ones that realize you can’t put a string around my neck and a tail on my…well, you know…set me off to fly like a kite and then reel me in when you want.

Restlessness involves trust - perhaps pushing trust waaaaaaay beyond normal limits. If you know me, more than casually, you know that there’s a reason I’m pursuing some new direction or other. You also know that I’ll take what I learn that resonates with me, drop what feels false and continue seeking. AND, as a close friend, you also know that YOU brought something to my table as well – something valuable. You brought your light to help me see who I really am. Your friendship brought me bread and wine to nourish my soul. But, most importantly, you brought your patience to stay within my sight, even when my restlessness gets the better of me, and your loving arms to welcome me back for however long before my next pilgrim journey.

SONNET by Ella Dietz

O my belovéd, hide and rest in me,
Sleep, my belovéd, pillowed on my breast,
Sleep on the heart that aches to give thee rest,
Lulled by the murmurs of the distant sea,
The low-voiced waves, the wind's wild minstrelsy,
Lulled deep in sweet repose and slumbers blest,
Of every care and sorrow dispossessed,
On sleep's light wings we sail the ether free,
For so He giveth His beloved sleep ;
The earth forgetting, they ascend on high
And drink pure draughts from fountains clear and deep,
And find their home eternal in the sky,
Where never a weary soul doth mourn or weep,
For He doth wipe the tears from every eye.