Dancing with Desire

As I sit in a Cafe, just south of Portland and very north of the warmer climates of my dreams, listening to the heartfelt croonings of Mumford and Sons and staring at the indefinitely rain soaked streets of Oregon as they try most desperately to soak up the minutes worth of sunshine allotted for the day I wonder, I admit, what has brought me here. At this place, at this time. 4 years and 5 days ago I found myself freshly landed on the shores of Hawaii wondering very similarly the same question. Only then, it was without the rain soaked streets -- Hawaiian roads are only allowed the pleasure of soaking in the sun, not the rain. Rains that fall in Hawaii are quickly sentenced to the ocean, where having mingled with its salty warmth they are forced back into clouds and only when having traveled to our dear northwest shores do they find rest within the ground -- over and over and over again. Drip drop, drip drop, drip drop, I now watch them find their fate within the ground. 

Hawaii first held me to its shores by the shear power of its nature. There, where ocean meets rock with powerful force and laps up the sand with persistent patience, I surrendered first with my toes and then with my heart. There, the sunshine, the sunsets and moonrises, the cliffs and the endless shores all spoke of the One who created them and with their voices echoing around me, I could feel Him there. How could I doubt when the very earth around me whispered His existence? This faith of ease is what motivated me to make my life in Hawaii more permanent, and so three years of life went by along its shores. The passing of time, as it does, lessened the awe of nature. At times its shores were like a pedestal to heaven, where reaching on tip toes and ocean, life was breathed into my Spirit and the rising of the sun became the awakening of my soul. At times I treated its volcanic rock like a starting block and I would use it to catapult myself away. Propelling myself by desire instead of heart. My heart, that is who He is. I can deny it, pretend I can live without Him - but my every breath begs to differ. 3 years and 2 months after the island first welcomed me home, when it had given me much and taken all that it could, I boarded a plane and I said my goodbyes. 

I was searching for awe and wonder, for purpose from the One who made me, the One I wasn't really sure if I was running to or from. I found myself here, where I now sit, sandwiched between a much fiercer ocean than the one I've known and mountains that shadow over me. 10 months have come and gone and my opinion of this hipstimatic offbeat place has yet to be determined. On this soggy land I have found an independence which has brought me confidence and cowardice in equal measure. I have too easily silenced God here and somehow still become more aware of His desires inside my heart. In this place where challanges are few and difficulties plenty I yearn for something that I can't find words for, I simply yearn. I am a dancer standing still and straight. I can hear a sound in the distance, a rhythm that stirs my blood, and as I begin to tap my foot I understand what this feeling is. Anticipation. For such a time as this. The sun is setting and I know that as it rises tomorrow it awakens my soul. Anticipation. I smile and I wait for the dance to begin, on these new shores.