Fallen Stars

I watched a movie the other day that contained the usual, euphoric ending of a man coming to the realization of his lackluster life and empty sense of love and intimacy, as well as the fruitless feeling of working a long, strenuous job and making endless money that he didn’t know what to do with. 

He met a woman who brought out the best in him so of course, in good Hollywood fashion, he left his current girlfriend, job, and city… and chose to take his money to travel the world and go on an adventure.

The last scene is him getting on an airplane with his new found love and venturing off into the skies. 

And then the credits rolled and the music played.

And the TV turned black.

And I sat there.  And stared at the screen.

“What happens next?”

What about when he runs out of money and his “adventure” is done and he comes back home and life has gone on without him and people don’t know who he is and he has no idea where to “re-enter”?

Not exactly the intention of Hollywood I’m sure, but I couldn’t help but go there mentally.

The stars fell out of my eyes about 3 months into living in Cambodia, and the truth eventually set in about that journey.  But the truth is what made that experience so fantastic, so I’ll gladly take the fallen stars.

And lets just say, returning home, I actually never had any stars in my eyes to begin with, unless I thought about the white runny cheese from Tres Hermanos or my comfortable mattress I hadn’t slept on in two years. But those desires only last but a moment when the rest of the "real" stuff slaps you in the face and puts you on your knees.  

Although this transition has allowed for a painful 6 months, I have come to realize that I feel no permanency or grand connection to any city, state, or country.  And for that I am grateful. 

I know I’m uncomfortable now because nowhere on this Earth is my home.  I am restless and confused and frustrated and stretched every day as I dig into what the Lord wants for me.  And I suppose it’s that tension that makes me keep digging. 

Our Western culture teaches us to focus on the beautiful times of life and live them to the fullest.  But the more I learn about Christ, the more I see how we learn of Him in the midst of our own suffering and his ability to remind us that he is present at such times.  And not just spiritually present, but often so palpable that we can feel him dripping from our tears. 

Tears I never want to exchange.