Sunset from a Different Porch

If there is comfort in structure, it makes perfect sense that there is discomfort where there is a lack of structure, i.e. chaos.

This explains a lot.

There isn't a day in my life that doesn't have some chaos in it, and it's in the hours following those uncomfortable moments of confusion, panic or stress that I suddenly realize that my life is often more chaos than structure. 

And always has been.

Oh, I have had days, possibly even weeks, of structure throughout my lifetime. But that calm, serene, still- small voice time has rarely been sustainable for me. 

And I think it's my fault.

I am not one to sit still for long. I get bored. I want to keep learning, meet new people, try something for the first time, read a new book, make a new friend, explore a new destination, greet a new challenge, see a sunset from a different porch...

I am in a love/hate relationship with change. On a daily basis.

Morning brings excitement for a new day of opportunity, daytime fulfills that expectation - sometimes too much - and nightfall comes with a sense of accomplishment tainted with the unsettling emotion of feeling unanchored, even unsteady.

It's almost like being sea sick.

Sometimes life seems to be rocking when I want it to roll. And as soon as I regain my balance, another wave of change knocks me back to my knees.

And sometimes I actually stay there.

Kneeling is a good place to be when you are feeling tossed and turned by life's storms. It also usually means you will be still for a short period of time. At least for me, it does. I am never tempted to kneel-walk once I hit the ground. I am just there. Still. Kneeling. Asking. Hoping. Listening.

Be still, and listen. 

No wonder kneeling is the best position for prayer. It forces us to stop for a moment, or longer. And that's when we can listen for that still, small voice. 

On our knees.

But once that's over, the listening complete, it's up and at 'em again. Lights, camera, action. Life jerks us up from that nearly perfect moment of calm introspection and off we go with our reddened knees and humbled spirits to fight the good fight one more day.

And that's not such a bad thing.

Especially if after a chaotic day of balancing time with tasks, and money with expenses, and energy with to-do lists......there's fresh air, a walk through the neighborhood, dinner with friends, soft music in the background, jeans and a t-shirt, fuzzy slippers, a warm quilt, loving family, good food and laughter. Another day of craziness is not such a bad thing if there's a safe place for us to escape to at the end of the day.

Home. The safe haven from the tumultuous chaos of life.

And for someone like me - who loves change and hates it too, who craves the warm comfort of home as much as the call of the road - the importance of comfortable structure in the midst of life's chaos could be life changing, if not life saving.

Family and home should always be my safe haven; faith, my anchor. An honest day's work too. And those calm, quiet moments of stillness on my knees. These should be the source of my comfort, the  foundation of my life's structure. I need that. We all do.

Because there's always going to be a new friend, a new book, a new experience and a new destination in my future. There will always be change and chaos at some level. I can't avoid it, and I don't want to. That's who I am. That's who I have always been. And that's who I want to be (with enough structure in the mix to keep me, and those around me, sane and anchored).

Home, family, faith, an honest day's work, and red knees. And that still, small voice.

And thankfully too, there's always a sunset. From somebody else's porch, or maybe even my own.