Home.
A four letter word that rolled off the tongue so easily. The word itself reminded me of green fields flowing for miles, the smell of familiarity and all the warm embraces of those I love most deeply.
Deep down I had so many expectations. Running thru the airport halls to reunite with the two people I have longed to lay eyes upon for 11 months. That first stop at QT to have a hot dog and a sweet tea (with ice). Driving thru Taco Bell and ordering practically the whole menu. Driving up to the farm and seeing my nephews run out to welcome me home. Smelling and tasting that first bite of my moms home cooked meal. And the list could go on for miles. But like I said, expectations.
Reality of it is, this is what I wanted. Never once did I stop to take in or ask God what He had in mind. I wanted my way, but He had another plan.
Instead I found myself leaving what had become home four days early. A whirlwind of fighting my pride and allowing unpleasant emotions flood me from every angle of life. I didn’t understand what was happening but I knew I was being called home.
Imagine the war inside my head. I was going home. The place I had longed for for so many months prior. A place that had now become so foreign. A place I no longer knew how to fit in. A girl who left a square peg coming home a well balanced,molded circular peg woman. A place that did not feel like home, but was.
No I did not get all the expectations. Instead of sleeping in my own bed that first night I received a warm, fluffy couch. I didn’t pull up to my own home, I was driven to a hospital to have my first glance at the man I ran home for. I had sweet surprise reunions with those I loved most. No I haven’t had Taco Bell, or even a mommas home cooked meal yet, but in all honesty I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is the way He wanted it. He brought me here to serve and love my family well. He has led me right where I am needed. This is my month 12.
No I still haven’t processed it all. No I still do not have it all together even after 12 months. No I do not know how to fit in here. No I do not have a job, a car or a phone number. No I do not regret one single decision that got me here. One thing I am certain of is that home is wherever the Lord calls me too. Whether it be these back roads of Grafton Illinois, the noisy streets of Browns Town Jamaica or the serene mountain view in Lajas Dominican Republic.
But for now, I am home.
