Seven might be a holy number.

Most of the time I'm restless.
Even if I seem calm there's a million things going through my mind. Partially because I don't keep a day planner. That's a whole other story though and 9.5 out of 10 times I always remember. Anyway, I'm restless. Always looking to the future and trying organize what that will look like...even though I'm go with the flow and don't plan things anyway. At all. And one could call me unorganized. Not exactly. I'm just scattered. It's different. So we can say I'm a dreamer. Perfect word. Even though I'm super realistic. My problem is that I don't make sense.

I stay busy. All the time. When I'm not busy I'm restless. I feel like I am only content to sit when I'm having one-on-one time with someone because I believe quality time to be worth more than the purest of gold. It's probably one of my love languages.

I don't plan for tomorrow or next week. I plan for seasons. For example: Fall I'm taking these classes, Spring I'm taking these, I will be here for this holiday, and I plan to do this over the Summer. Oh wait...that was my problem. Lord, what do You want to do with my summer?

Long story short, I knew in my heart that God wanted me to be home. I thought that meant America. So I ruled out overseas mission trips, which was extremely hard. My heart is not here. I ruled out working at an out of state camp because Texas is not my home. Tennessee must be. So when I was presented with an opportunity to work at a camp within the great Volunteer State I was thrilled and my heart was conflicted. I didn't understand. Over a period of time I had a battle going on inside of my heart and my mind didn't know what to do. So I procrastinated.

Last night I finally began filling out the application because it was due in 4 days. Haha deadlines. I don't generally forget them. When I got to the question that asked why I was applying to work at that place I came to a crater in my confidence. I felt very alone and confused for the smallest fraction of a second, yet I can recall the feeling as if it had lasted an eternity. I honestly could not force myself to write that I felt God leading me there. So I skipped the question and began finishing the forever long form.

Obviously I would be faced with the question again. How juvenile of myself to believe that it would have been anything less than it was upon a second return. It was the same question. The way that I felt facing something without God having my back was terrible enough for me to cease filling out the form and do some serious soul searching.

 I wasn't sure what home was. I thought home was an area. Not at all. Last night I learned what home is and what it is not. My home is not America. My home is not Chattanooga. My home is not even the place that I sleep every night. My home is the people that I love the most.

To summarize everything that I have explained and all the more that I have not, I knew God had work for me at home this summer. I didn't listen to the whole "home" thing very well. Opportunities kept throwing themselves at me and they were all absolutely fantastic, but I was confused. After seven pages of a not so wasted camp application, a seven page text to organize my thoughts, and more than a few light bulbs shining with the light of seven suns inside my head and my heart, my summer was decided.

Last night, March 27th, 2012, marked the start of a new season in my life. It even has a theme. Be still. That's my theme. There's a few verses for it. You can find them in the Bible. Anyway, I like to look ahead and plan for seasons. So what will I be doing this season? Learning to be still. Be still. Be still.

So summer....what shall I do....drumroll......ba da ba da ba da ba da ba daaaa....
This summer I will be loving on my family, my friends, my church, and my city. I love these people and these people are my home. I will remain where I am and wake up to God's adventure for me every day. It's gonna be wild. I'm way excited. But I will only be able to have the wild and the unexpected thrills of a new day planned by my Love if I continually choose to be still.

Seven pages of paper, seven pages of a text, seven suns of God's glory shining down in my life.
Seven might really be a holy number.