Looking for a City

When we moved to Kansas City from Florida over 20 years ago after my then husband's job was eliminated, we had the choice of three different cities where he could transfer within the same company ... Washington, D.C., Oklahoma City or Kansas City. I don't remember exactly how or why we decided to come to Kansas City, but I do recall that at least in part, it was the closest city to our home in Tennessee. I've often thought about how it must have been within God's plan to bring us to the Midwest, and I've wondered what path our lives would have taken had we not come here. Two of my three children met their future spouses here; some of my most precious friendships have been forged here; and most important of all, the kids and I all came to know the Lord here.

One of the greatest challenges after we had decided that we were coming to Kansas City was deciding which part of the city we wanted to live in. We knew nothing about the town or the suburbs that surrounded it, but we had three small children and knew we needed to live somewhere safe that had good schools. Thankfully, we had a great real estate agent who steered us in the perfect direction, and time has proven that it was the right choice. My children and I built a life here on the outskirts of Kansas City ... a life filled with love and relationships and laughter, with some trials and heartache mixed in along the way.

I've only lived in three states in my 51 plus years of life ... guess I could never be accused of being a nomad. I'm not sure why, but it seemed like a much bigger deal when we moved to Kansas than when we moved to Florida, perhaps because for the first time in my life, I wasn't going to be living in the South. Though our home in Ft. Lauderdale was considerably farther away in miles and hours to drive than Kansas City, it felt like I was much farther from home when we moved here.

Though it feels like home here in the Midwest for the most part, lately I've found myself wishing I could just pack the dogs in the car and drive until I found a little city or town where I would like to live. I think it has more to do with my state of mind than it does with really wanting to move ... it's the whole running away feeling that sweeps over me so often now that spurs my desire to find a place to simply check out of the daily grind. Unrealistic, I know, but a girl can dream, I suppose.

I downloaded some new music onto my iPod last night and was listening to it this morning as I walked. I stopped dead in my tracks when a song titled "Looking for a City" began to play. As happens quite frequently when I'm out on my beloved trail, the tears that rolled down my cheeks hit the pavement as I started walking again. As clearly as if He were walking beside me, God began to speak to my spirit through the words of the song. You see, there's only one city that I need to be looking for ... the city that God has designed for me to spend eternity in ... I should be hoping and longing and looking for the city where the streets are paved with gold. The cares of this life are so temporary when I view them in the context of the eternal home that is waiting for me. As I crossed the final bridge toward home this morning, I whispered a prayer that God would make me content while I wait ... content while I'm looking for a city.

"Looking for a city where we'll never die
There the sainted millions never say goodbye
Where we'll meet our Savior
And our loved ones, too
Come oh Holy Spirit
All our hopes renew."