A Resting Place

I'm in my new home, guys. I assembled a bed and hung a shower curtain and bought a broom and dustpan and even a welcome mat. I baked a housewarming cake. There is food in our refrigerator and our cabinets. There is ice in our freezer. 

Elizabeth will be here in a half hour. It is strange to be in this new place. Stranger still to be living with EJ. We used to joke about it, but now it's real. If I want to, I can see inside her bedroom from mine. I'm not used to the noises I'm hearing outside. I will get used to it. 

I will turn 22 during this first night at our apartment. I have been feeling 22 for awhile now though. It all started when I went abroad; I feel like I grew up a lot in that and so I felt 21 some time before I actually was. So it set got me all off kilter. But I work tomorrow and you can bet my girls and I will be dancing to some Taylor Swift. Thanks, Taylor for making 22 not so lame. 

Also, for the next almost two weeks our home will all be 22 so hopefully we'll eat breakfast at midnight and forget about some deadlines. Falling in love with strangers, however, is not the wisest of choices and I think we will skip that one. 

I've called a lot of places home. When I signed that 11-month lease, it was a little strange to me. I couldn't quite figure out how I felt about it. I haven't spent 11 months in one place since high school. College has long Christmases and summers, and there were internships and studying abroad and that beautiful Beloit summer. Elizabeth, too has been abroad and biking and globe trotting. And now, the wanderers find a place to rest. 

I started singing that old hymn...

My faith has found a resting place/not in device or creed. 

I think of what I'm reading about the glory of Christ, about being satisfied, 

"Moses knew that the ultimate rest, blessedness and satisfaction of the soul, is not in seeing the works of God, but the glory of God himself" John Owen. 

Pause. 

Think on that. 

With the overflowing grace in my life, and all of the Lord's providences towards me, wouldn't it be easy to rest there, in his works? But it's not about the things. It's not about the wonderful roommate and roomy kitchen. It's what they reveal of God: that he knows my desires and my needs and is kind enough to supply them. 

By resting not in the provisions, but in the Provider my hope is built on nothing less than Christ himself so that when all else fails I remain secure.