Well, I clicked my little sparkly flats together and found myself back in Missouri (thankfully not Kansas) this last week. It was good to see my friends and utterly refreshing to spend time with peoople my own age and relative place in life. During the whirlwind that was my week away, there was a wedding, a bridal shower, a shopping spree, too many rushed dinners, lots of awkward hugs, a birthday party, a moving extravaganza, and entirely not enough time with people that I love and miss terribly.
And in spite of all that, I was homesick.
I do not know what is wrong with me. I get "homesick" for Missouri and while I'm there, I get "homesick" for Washington. There is some kind of disconnect in my brain, I think.
It was a completely exhausting, much needed week away. And I'm glad that I'm back.
Perhaps I've been wrong all along; maybe home isn't always simply where my stuff is. Home is where I feel vulnerable and accepted in that vulnerability. Completely safe from judgment and derision, welcomed to share in community and desired for who I am and what I can offer. And to be honest, some days that changes. Some days I am fully at home in Washington. This last week, there were days I felt right and some days I longed for home. A friend reminded me that we are created for something grander and all of what we know, what we encounter, what we love is sometimes only a reflection and a glimpse into what we were made for.
Thanks God, for giving me people who allow me to find home in You, wherever that may be. Thanks for continually being a rock of habitation to which I call. Thanks for always being home.
