The first post of the first blog of the new adventure.

I’m sitting at Panera’s, finishing up my Chai and watching the rain pour down. It looks like God just took a full bucket and dumped on top of Nashville. Could life get more perfect?

Well, yeah, actually it could. I could have a job, that would make it more perfect. And a place to live, that would even be better…. odd how I think a place to live is better than a job, isn’t it. Guess this unemployment-just-hangin’-with-my-friends stuff is really growing on me. Ah, but alas, money makes the world go ’round… at least so think the bill collectors. So a job I must get. And soon!

John’s parents are being very gracious and allowing me to take up space in their home. But I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I’d really like to stop living out of my suitcase and car. It’d be so nice to actually spread out my stuff and be able to leave it where it is instead of packing it back up each time I use it. Besides, I haven’t seen all my own belongings in over a year. When I finally do get to unpack it all it will feel like Christmas!

However, rent here is more than I was lead to believe. Soooo, I really need a roommate. Or a miracle. I’ll take either one.

Jobs seem to be scarce too. No one but coffee houses and retailers are hiring, and even their positions are limited. Hmmm….

Two Miracles to go, please!

On a more positive note, all this free time is giving me more time to spend with God. Most of that is still spent in pleading for His intervention for a job or apartment, or for His comfort as my heart continues to ache from the gaping hole mom and dad’s deaths have left.

However, more and more I crave to hear from Him; hear His voice calling up through His Word, or suddenly grabbing my attention with a new nugget of Truth from an often-read passage. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Digging into the Word has been a painful and fearful experience for me this past year. I don’t really know why. It’s not that I was running from God. Quite the opposite, I’ve run to Him — into His arms — and hid there most of the year. I guess it’s like when you’re sick. You don’t want to eat, you just want comfort.

Now that I’m feeling somewhat better, I’m realizing how famished I am. And I’m ready to eat. Ready for a feast. Bring it on, Jesus!