ramblings.

When I can't sleep, I imagine this house. Specifically, a room in the house. Way out in the country, on the top floor of an old farm house, with the windows open and the curtains blowing gently through. I'm sleeping in this huge bed, covered in white down blankets. So peaceful. Safe.

I've never seen such a house, or room, or bed, but it's where I go, when my own space isn't working.

I'm thinking about where my life is going. Whether it's going. I'm feeling restless. Sometimes, I want to just pick up and move. Pick a city, go there, get a job, work, live. What would be wrong with that? I'm not tied here. Phoenix? Atlanta? Back home to Chicago? Portland? Why not?

I used to have a plan for my life, and it made me feel settled, stable, valuable. Now, I have no plan. Because all I know is that I don't want the old plan. And the eschewing of one is not the presence of another, so I am plan-less. In my stronger moments, I think things like "Ok, God, whatever You'd have me do, I'm all in..." In my weaker moments, I spit it out, kind of angry with Him, as though to say "Fine, You want me? You got me." Because I'm scared. Because I don't yet fully understand my value in Christ. Because plans make me feel valuable, but without one, what am I?

I pray for guidance, but I get nothing. What now?