Not Any Other

"Crawl back to life, it's been far too long...
seed of light into your atmosphere.
Is the house we built still here?

When the beat of my drum, meets the beat of your heart,
You know, I couldn't love any other, any other.
This is where I come from.
This is where I belong.
With the beat of your drum, not any other.

..Feel the force of time, weighing down my mind
Tears you cried, screaming at the sky
Go outside, the rays are shining bright.

Not any other feels like home.
Where I belong."

- Young the Giant


The house is indeed still here. A little on the empty side, a little neglected, but still here.

I realize how lame it is to have two overly dramatic posts in a row, two years apart, about the power of writing, but there is something terribly cathartic about writing. I've recently discovered how very much of an introvert I am. I cried my way through the first several chapters of The Introvert Advantage and can hardly wait to dig into Quiet. Time to rest, reflect, and dream.

I married into a family of profound extroverts in 2010. So, needless to say I've spent the last 3 1/2 years questioning who I am. If I'm not like them, and I still okay? Nearly all of them thrive inside the chaos of our family gatherings. I'm worn out by hour two and finding a reason to quietly play Legos with one of my five nephews.

This coming July there will be 24 of us vacationing together in two houses at the sea. For. Seven. Days. Non stop people time for a week straight. Luckily there are a couple others who are happy to sit and ponder.

I can't be too critical. As things go, they really have given me license to be who I am, to interact as I can, and have taken what I can offer in the time I can offer it. And in turn, they have taught me to be freer. Rather than a bud forcing itself to stay tight, they challenge me to bloom as fully as I can, for as long as I can ,before I close up again for the night.

When I embrace how God has made me, accept it, and stop trying to force myself into another mold, things go a lot better. No other place feels like home to me more than when I am moving in step with the beating drum of the Trinity. I know how mystical that must sound, but what I mean by it is simple. There is a grace-filled rhythm underlying my days and nights. When I tell my heart to You God, silently or otherwise, and then listen - I can feel it in my heart and my movements come more easily. There are weeks when I don't quiet down and I ignore the invitation to rest. I am ragged.

This summer I'm discerning an invitation from You to move in correlation to the beat of Your drum. To revisit the passages by which You wooed me. To rest in You. I'm trusting that I can do that in Your power, even sharing a house with a multitude of extroverts. Ha!