Home.
What a weird concept it has had the last few years.
Springville.
That’s where I grew up and it’s where my family lives and it’s been home for most of my life. It’s a place that has shaped me and it’s a place where my mind goes when thinking about memories.
But when I think about home and I think about the memories, it’s not really about the place. It’s more about the people that are there. Over the last few weeks, with the squad in India, I have heard and even said comments like, “it just feels like home” or “I feel like I am at home.”
Something I have realized over the last few years is that my people are what matter the most to me. My people that are from Alabama to North Caroline to Texas to Iowa. The ones that I have done life with, whether it’s been 27 years or just a few. The ones that I am currently with and see everyday to the ones that I haven’t been able to talk to since being in India.
The people, my people, are what home is.
During my first mission trip I heard the Lord tell me that home is wherever He is.
Home is here. In India. Because He has called me here and He is here with me.
Home, just like the church, isn’t actually a house like we have been taught. It’s not even a city because Jesus didn’t have one of those. Home, to me, is more of a mindset. A concept. A state of mind. It’s more of a sense of safety and vulnerability and freedom. One where I can share a table with the people close to me whether it’s a fancy one in a dining room or if it happens to be a dusty floor. One where I am safe to share all that the Lord is doing and all the good things that He has already done. A place where it is safe to be weak or strong. Good or bad. On a mountain or in a valley. It’s a place where I can dream and then have my people around me to bring those dreams to life. Home is sharing tea and coffee. It’s late night kitchen conversations whether it’s a big, nice one at a mission house in Haiti or if it’s one with India dust everywhere and a spicy residue in the air.
I have been in this weird limbo over the last few weeks. A limbo of being so, so excited for what next season after squad leading is going to bring while being perfectly content right here. A season of looking back in deep reflection of my life and all that the Lord has done while being perfectly content right here. In India. With people who have become my people. I am in a place of longing for home while being home. Longing for my people while being with my people.
One time, I was out of communication for a month in Botswana and when I was finally able to call one of my friends while on a layover in New York, I learned that she had a pretty rough month while I was in the middle of the African Bush. I got off the phone and I wept. Right there in the middle of the airport with my people, I wept over my people that I wasn’t with and how I was missing out on big, life changing moments.
Today, I got a picture from the same friend that said, “I’m a mom!”
Then, one of my women from the squad looked at me and said, “what are you thinking?” I could do nothing but cry and start to process out loud this whole concept of being content and longing for things at the same time.
Today, I cried with my people over my people.
This concept of home is so strange and still new to me. That I can long so badly to be somewhere while being the most content that I have ever felt in my life.
The bible says that there is a time for weeping and a time for laughing. A time to mourn and a time to dance.
What if those times are the same? What if I need to weep and laugh? What if I need to mourn and I need to dance?
Some people would probably say that sounds unstable. Watch out for this girl, she’s a little crazy. But, it’s where I’m at. I am mourning that I’m not with my people having babies and celebrating birthdays and marriages and playing softball for their school for the first time. I am mourning that I am missing out on so many big, life changing moments. While I am also celebrating and laughing and absolutely loving everything about the current place that I am in with all of my people.
I am missing my people.
While being with my people.
I am missing home.
While being home.
Because home is where the Lord is and it’s where my people are. Home is a little piece of everywhere.
