Comfort and Familiarity

Hubby and I spent a delightful weekend in Texas celebrating the marriage of a good friend. Besides that the wedding was a beautiful, God-glorifying occasion, I was so refreshed and encouraged to be surrounded by friends who know and love me -- I didn't have to explain my story or who I am. They just know me. The gracious couple we stayed with hosted a game night after the wedding, and we spent a few hours playing games, talking, catching up, being silly, and doing life together. What a blessing it is to have such a deep community that I am truly known, not just a name and a face.

But Sunday's sermon at my favorite church in the world made me stop and think about why it is that I so deeply desire to be known. I am idolizing comfort and familiarity. To make something an idol is to take anything (sometimes even a good thing) and make it all-important. All my life I have sought to be known, to be comfortable. If you know me at all, you know that I hate change, particularly big change. I'm a creature of habit and when my routine is thrown off big enough, all hell breaks loose. Our recent move in January pulled a huge upset in my life. Everything I held dear -- friendship, community, comfort, familiarity, routine, a church I loved -- was within one month blown completely to pieces. Now I am in a place where I am not comfortable or familiar; I need my iPhone or a GPS to get most places, whereas during our weekend trip to Texas I borrowed my friend's car and never once looked at a map. The "friends" that I have made in our new home (who are wonderful people, don't get me wrong) only know the surface stuff; they don't know my deep fears and dreams.

The thing is, I am already known and loved and comfortable in the arms of my Savior. He has known me from before the foundation of the earth. He has written my name on the palm of His hands. He has counted the hairs on my head and knows which ones are gray, blonde, brown, and highlighted. He knows when I sleep and when I rise. He knows the deepest desires of my heart. And He loves me. So why do I want so badly to be known? Because I have made an idol out of familiarity. I want it. I need it. But I already have it from the Creator of the universe and Lover of my soul, and yet I keep seeking it elsewhere, thinking that if I just make enough friends here, or make my home cute enough, or work hard enough at tutoring, or play enough piano, that I will finally be comfortable and feel content. Why can't I remember to be content in all circumstances? This world is not my home.

God, oh that I may find comfort and familiarity and rest in the depths of Your love and mercy towards those You have redeemed!