Wholeness.

Wholeness. I don't know that all of us would call it that, but it is the most accurate description of that thing, that feeling, that I have ever come across. This feeling is one that we all desire and one that most of us spend a significant amount of time pondering about, grasping at, fretting over, longing for.

I have lacked a feeling of wholeness recently. There have been moments, some fleeting, some pretty lengthy, but it is usually an abnormally temporary feeling. (I mean, people don't usually feel whole or "complete" all the time, but I think there is a problem when you don't feel that way more than you do. Just saying.) I didn't know for a long time what it was that I was missing. I only knew something was.

I can remember the days when I felt secure in my relationship with God. I loved Him and it was completely enough. I felt connected. I was walking on sunshine. Puppies and rainbows, man.

I don't know when it happened. When I lost my feeling of wholeness. Or when I became aware that I'd lost my feeling of wholeness for that matter. I came to realize that there is a disconnect somewhere. (Hint: it is not on God's end of things.) I have been emotionally but not-so-actively searching to fill myself up again, but it's almost like I don't know how.

I know I need to start going to church regularly again. And I need to start back up with my devos. And I need to surround myself with fellowship more often. And I need to talk to Him more--and not just about things I want. I also need to listen for Him more.

But...I just don't.

"I know how wholeness feels. It feels like soft summer evenings when I would close Christopher and the chickens in for the night. It feels like when Tess would lie on our bed and roll on her back to show us her white belly. It feels like the times I would linger by the barn as soft clucks and gentle grunts would wash over me like the moonlight, and fill me with peace.

Wholeness feels like gratitude."

Sy Montgomery, The Good Good Pig

I am not grateful enough. Atleast, I don't act like it. My goal in life isn't to honor God. I am entirely focused on this life and what I can get out of it--what the next good thing is. I expect things to happen--or to not happen--because it's what I want and how I want it and why shouldn't it be that way? No. This is not the way to go about life

I used to know how to go about life. I was an active participent. Lately I have become someone who is along for the ride or, at best, a member of the peanut gallery protesting when I feel something is not as it should be.

I have become selfish. And I don't like that.