I'm sitting on a couch that isn't mine.
Using a computer that isn't mine.
Thinking about a life that isn't mine.
I have so many things to share about this week. Since I last posted, so much has happened. Some of it I'm ready to share and some of it I'm not. But right now, I'm struck by the fact that so much of life is really beyond our control.
I spend money as if it's mine.
I dream about a life I want to "make" for myself.
I fight to conserve a planet that doesn't belong to me.
I read blogs of people half a world away and allow my heart to be broken by the things they've seen.
But it isn't my own.
Their stories are not my story to tell.
I wish they were.
I wish I could see firsthand what it's like to live in the slums of Kolkata, India.
I wish I could wrap my arms around my own sponsored child in the Dominican Republic.
I wish I could bring home a little one (or ten or twenty) this very night.
I wish I could look into the eyes of my precious Ariyana and kiss her goodnight tonight.
I wish for a lot of things.
Things that are not mine to have.
And yet, in the exact same moment, I am struck by the deep and abiding contentedness of my life.
I have enough.
I am loved.
I am a child of the King.
I have been given not just abundant life, but extravagant life!
And tonight, on this couch that is not my own, I am reminded that who I am is not rooted in my wishes.
I am not my own.
I belong to him.
And in that, there is joy and peace and hope and life.