It matters to me to tell you how displaced I have been for months. Displaced. Let's define the word first.


1. lacking a home, country, etc.
2.moved or put out of the usual or proper place.
For several months, I have not recognized my life. I've been moving quickly. I've been displaced by a fire of epic proportions and moved away to root ourselves in the soil of our retreat. We've left our home and in some ways, we feel like we've left our country. I'm feeling like I am in a new place--defining a new home and carving out for myself a new life. I blogged yesterday on Living the Life you most want to live. That's a question that is nagging in me right now.
Even my roles have changed in recent months. I find myself being a grandfather which stirs feelings I never knew existed. I'm sitting in the small room of a log cabin used for washing and drying clothes and yesterday, found myself a small wooden desk in which I'm sitting here looking out a tattered window with a torn screen. This new exit from my old life to a new one I am trying to define is causing us to re-think nearly everything. A place for that. A cleansing of our acquired stuff because their are simply no closets--and now no closets even to my soul.
So, today I have finally taken the necessary time to put words to feelings and to put phrases to soulful longings. What came out is this-- a  new poem.  I will share it with you now.
Sojournerby Stephen W. SmithSeptember 7, 2012 I am a sojourner who has been for too long, away from home.Distant lands have beckoned me and I have heeded their voices.The names of the lands do not matter now but what matters more is the gap.I am a modern day prodigal and I have left the hands, which wait to bless me. Those hands I have wanted for so long upon my shoulder--upon my life.I have longed to be carried rather than toil this arduous journey so alone.Yet, now do I know that those hands have been underneath me all along.Sweet Presence-- though I did not want to be carried at times. I am moving towards home.To that place where I belong and where I am received without shame and blame.With tattered heart and ragged soul, I sense you now moving towards me.Please, my God find me and in your arms left me now fall. Receive my confession and hear my cry.Words pulling up my soul to tell you the truth.My tears are my baptism pool to be cleansed once again.Open wide the door to home and receive me unto yourself.