A noise startles me and I jolt awake. My eyes make out dim shapes around me–bed, window, walls.
Where am I?
At first I imagine I’m still at the Relevant conference. Then I think I’m home in my bedroom.
Slowly I realize it’s neither. I’m in New Jersey, stuck overnight because of problems with my flight.
I lean back on the pillows and feel the weight of that middle place–of being neither here nor there.
And aren’t we all in the middle between somewhere and Home?
In the dark I whisper a name.
Jesus.
And suddenly I don’t feel so alone.
He comes to us in our middle places.
Between fear and security.
Between brokenness and wholeness.
Between the ache and the healing.
Sometimes our hearts jolt awake because life startles us. And we ask ourselves the hard question in the night, “Where am I?”
Then He whispers,
“You’re in the middle of My love.
The middle of My grace.
The middle of My plan.
And no matter what, I will make sure you get Home.”
I drift back to sleep, blankets around my body, everlasting arms around my heart. The light comes, in the blink of an eye, and it’s time to fly.
Home.
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