Imagine

I know it is summer,
But I am wrapping Christmas gifts
and watching autumn leaves fall
and hoping for snow,
just like always.
I am living in a house I love
with weather that is cool and clear
and I am happier there than I am here,
aren't I?

At least, I imagine I am.

If all my dreams come true,
from cool autumn sunsets
and a front porch swing with apple cider,
to white Christmases
and soft cool springs
to green grass and real trees
and the things I've grown up loving
surrounding me,
I can be content.

At least, I imagine I can.

But homesick will always be my coming home;
sometimes my dreams aren't meant for me.
It is in this longing
that I groan
imagining happy that is not mine
desire thwarted by a larger Heart who knows
my peace is Him,
and He will never leave me nor forsake me.

And I imagine He is enough
but it hurts sometimes because I am here
and I cry a lot
because He doesn't look like what I want.

But He knows what I cannot imagine
and He says He is more than that
and hope that is seen
isn't hope at all.

So faith is more than I imagine
not blind leaping in the dark
but sure enough so I can walk
and weep
and ask with open hands
and hear God's loving "Wait"
and I do not despair
of His goodness to me.