perfect pillows

I met this girl recently, and went to her house.  It was gorgeous.  I mean, the most adorable style of home, decorated to the nines, covered in style.  I was a little jealous.  For a minute. 

And then I realized-- I can't have this life.  

Every once in a while, in prayer, or church or study, or just thinking about Jesus, I get this glimpse of something.  I can't describe what it is.  It's a vision of my future, of what my future could be any way, and it is....amazing. 

It's risky, and dangerous, and out there, and it takes every thing I have, everything I'll ever have.  

I don't really know what it is--I mean, I've got no particulars.  No where.  No when.  No what, really.  The only thing I know is that it is not the perfect life, it's not the nice life.  It's not a pretty house with perfectly color-coordinated pillows.  It is a life in the wild.  Life on the very edge of God's provision-- you know that edge where you've given everything for Jesus, left nothing for yourself, and are just waiting on the miracle.  Because without the miracle, you're gonna free-fall. 

I so want to be on that edge.  I was made for it, I know that now.  

God has been dragging me from place to place for so long.  I'm starting to see.  

My body wants comfort-- wants the beautiful home, and the pillows.  My soul wants rugged and wild and radical glory for God.  

Lord, show me.  Show me where to start.