I have this thing where I think about home a lot. And by a lot, I mean all day every day for my entire life. Well, that might be a little bit of an exaggeration. But still. It's something that is important to me.
This summer I've been "home" quite often. Meaning, almost every weekend and 2 full weeks out of the past two months. There is absolutely nothing like the mountains of North Carolina. The pictures are constantly moving through my head. The large, rounded peaks covered in dark green trees. Behind them sit a bright, light blue sky with fluffy white clouds that scroll by. (If you need a real visual, just check my Instagram or Facebook.) I love turning right between the Wal-Mart and Burger King, driving past McGee Brother's Machine and Weld, seeing the cows and train caboose, winding around curves, going too fast on the straight away, climbing the hill, and pulling down into my parents' driveway. The best time of year to do this is June and July. As soon as you open the car door, the smell of summer drifts in, and you can't help but close your eyes and enjoy the moment. After that small, quiet moment there is a whirlwind of hugs, plans, laughter, friends, family, fun, meals, desserts, rocking chairs, sunsets, lightening bugs, and even more views of mountains than you know what to do with. That is home.
But then.
It's time to leave.
I drive the highways and interstates back down to the land of traffic, Braves, Chick-fil-a and Coca-cola. I pull into my apartment building and immediately start thinking about getting out of that complex. My roommates are all sorts of excited about our new apartment. We get the keys - with four children between the ages of 6 months and 6 years, #nannylife - and walk into the empty, light filled space. We look at each other with excited expressions - between attempting to sooth excited and hungry children - and then, that's it. We will have a three-person family in a dream apartment in Atlanta, GA, with the occasional child or 4 mixed in. We will talk, laugh, watch tv, read, cook, dream, and live together. This is home.
Sometimes, it's hard to feel like I belong in two places at once. Sometimes, I just want to find a place and stay. I try to look ahead to what will happen next and where I'm going to end up after graduation in a year and a half. I wonder where I actually belong. And in the middle of the wondering I feel something bringing my mind and heart at ease. Because I know with confidence that no matter what it looks like, I am where God needs me to be. Whether it is laughing in my friend's kitchen at her son trying to give the dog a treat. Or sitting on the back porch talking to my parents. Or laying on blankets in Piedmont Park doing homework with my friends and classmates. Or "visualizing" where our furniture is going to go in all of the rooms in our apartment with two of my favorite girls. Whatever the scene might be, I feel the Spirit's whisper telling me, "This is home. This is where you belong. Enjoy THIS moment."
And that helps me remember.
This moment is just another little part of life that I need to enjoy, isn't it?
