On a trip in the Great Smoky Mountains when our son was about three years old, he became troubled as we drove the winding mountain roads. Finally, he cried, “I don’t know where my home is!” He was a very sad and concerned little fellow.
It is quite disconcerting to not know where we are. I experience that every day now that we have moved to Georgia. I am blessed with a very travel worthy driver, but as for me, I haven’t known where I am since we’ve been here.
Emotionally and spiritually, it is even more troubling to wonder where you are, to recall all the places you could have been, to long for the places you wished to be. I am comforted by these words written by Margaret Silf:
God comes to us not where we should have been if we had made all the right choices in life; not where we could have been if we had taken every opportunity that God has offered us; not where we wish we were if we didn’t have to be in the place where we find ourselves; not where we think we are because our minds are out of sync with our hearts; not where other people think we are or think we ought to be when they are attending to their own agendas. God meets us where we really are.
Source: Inner Compass Add Your Thoughts
I am very glad that, in spite of the many places I wandered in life or hoped to be, God meets me where I really am.