permanent.

"When all you know seems so far away
And everything is temporary, rest your head
I'm permanent."

{--David Cook}

Lately, life has felt a bit like having an out-of-body experience.  I think it’s due to the season of change currently at hand—both in the climate and in my life.

I talked to my mom about this for a bit while I was up in Sacramento this past weekend.  About how so often I want things to change, but yet when they do, I wonder what happened.  Deep down, I long for something of permanence.

It is that realization that nothing is permanent, I think, that is giving me this out-of-body feeling.

Like reminiscing with my grandma about years ago when all the cousins used to spend Wednesdays at my grandparents house.  And realizing that all the cousins are grown up now—with jobs and cars and bills and love lives and I wish I could remember the last time we played Marco Polo together.

There is also the knowledge that there is going to come a day—much too soon—when my grandparents will not be here in body.  Knowing that one day I will enter their house without them there to greet me.  I don’t like it.  I don’t want that to change.  I don’t want it to end.

Then, there is the wondering about how the heck I ended up in Orange County.  I was listening to a song that reminded me of the fall of 2009 and remembering how in that time in my life, I was still in Sacramento, living in an apartment.  I had a great group of friends that I was spending time with and I was also getting over a broken heart from 2 different guys. At that time, I planned to move to Lake Tahoe or to some small town outside of California.  I never could’ve guessed that I would be here.  I had no idea how different my life would look, how different I would be, than what I had planned.

Deployment.  That’s another one.  I wonder I ended up with a Marine and how did time pass by so past, bringing us to this pre-deployment place where it feels a bit like swimming through murky waters and everything seems far off and surreal. 

Or the fact that it’s November.  I swear that only yesterday I was planning my trip to the east coast and celebrating New Years and watching summer come and holding hands under 4^th of July fireworks.  And now it’s November and even though I know I soaked up every second of this last year, I still feel like I’ve missed something.  I was so excited for 2010 to be over last year, but I am not quite ready to say good-bye to 2011.  The fact that it’s less than 2 months away blows my mind and humbles me with the realization that I am not the one in control.

At the same time, it is in this out-of-control place that I feel God working.  I feel Him teaching me about the ebb and flow of things, about yin and yang, black and white, and the balance between the two.

And I feel myself wanting Him more.  On Monday, I wept in the car on the way home from work because my heart wants to be like His so badly.  I’m okay with that.  In fact, I love being in this place of longing for Him.

Because He’s all that matters.  He’s all that’s permanent.  That permanence is my rock today.  And that rock is where I hope I can always be found.