You Are Home
Oh man, where to start this thing?
It’s a Grind in Galt, California in October 2016 is as good a place as any. (Ironically and very cyclically; I’m currently sitting in a coffee shop, this time in Uganda-but you get it)
At the time I clicked ‘submit’ on my lengthy and clueless application for the World Race Gap Year; I had not the slightest inkling of a thought- of the consequences of that little action. And three years later; its’s not an exaggeration when I say that tens of thousands of miles traveled have left a permanent and deeply engraved impartation in me. Hundreds of hours of travel: in the air, in buses, taxi’s, boats, and my own feet have brought me face to face with 13 countries and dozens of people groups In three years.
If you’ve been following my journey from the beginning, you know bits and pieces of where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, walked through, sat in, and done. I’ve spent a long time calling different locations, “home”.
The past three months have been exhausting. I had been living at an orphanage for South Sudanese refugees for a duration, but complications arise anywhere. Whether it was logistical issues, in-house dilemma’s at the orphanage, interference and confusion on part of the Ugandan government, me getting malaria three times, whatever it was…Life here rarely made sense, and was often (candid moment) a serious kick to the eggs.
A few weeks back Ugandan government agencies descended upon the the orphanage and pushed legal action to close the orphanage due to negligence to meet legal standards. There was even a time in which it seemed as if these orphans who are already refugees, were about to be scattered into foster care. 137 of them. Helpless is a good word to describe the emotional state of the kids, and worried but angry was mine. In my time at Dreamland, I spent the majority of my days doing the little things. Reading with the little ones, getting climbed on daily- the list goes on. It was hot, there were scorpions, I was in and out of the hospital. You get it.
As things were still hectic, I was in and out of living situations because of the proximity to good medical care. Which, I needed. I’d rather try and cut my hair with a dull cheese grader than go three rounds with malaria again.
I arrived at the children’s home one morning in the middle of the chaos and was greeted by a staff member. “Welcome Home”, he said. Followed by, “You are Home”.
Throughout my life I’ve spent an abundance of time asking who am I ?
There are truths about myself that I’ve been aware of for a little while now. I’m born to be loved, I am Love with skin on, and the kingdom of heaven is here.
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But this concept of home; that has both eluded me and been staring me in the face for over 1,000 days now, is what I’ve come to realize is the most profound experience.
All of us in some way can relate to the parable of the Prodigal Son. We can relate to both the son that ran away to squander the love he didn’t deserve, and to the judgmental brother who feels security in his moral superiority and legalism.
I’ve always had a profound emotional connection to this story, due in large part to own. Similar in more ways than theoretical or hypothetical, I have a passion for prodigals because I myself was once a prodigal in every sense of the word.
But in review, it’s a son who had everything he could ever need; asked for his inheritance, wishing death upon his father and bringing shame to his whole family. He squanders the money on booze and sex, and ends up at rock bottom, disgraced and worse than homeless. Culturally, he was an outcast and an orphan. And in past experience, upon studying this story I have always been enthralled with the Father’s forgiveness, grace, love, and mercy. He went so far, as to take all the shame off of his wayward son, and place it on himself.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion and ran and embraced him and kissed him”
The son had this prideful idea that he would go back to his father and beg and plead and fix everything. He made the mess and now he was going to fix it all? As self empowering as that sounds, it rarely works like that. He wasn’t back yet, still on the road, in process, a long way off from where he needed to be.
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Home is where you need to go on your worst day, want to go on your best day, and love to go to any day. Home opens it’s doors with grace and peace. Home should be a place built on trust. Home should be filled with joy and kindness and goodness. Home sounds like Love, home sounds like God.
And in the story of the prodigal son, in my testimony and journey especially in the last three years, home ran to me.
I could go forever about trauma and healing, and struggling and peace. I could labor to write about every little detail of this story that’s culminated to this moment. I could write every detail about my past and just how far off I was. This journey that I’ve been on led me here. Every hurt, mistake, choice, impulse decision, word poorly spoken…
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I believe that the deepest holes in our hearts represent that which we have the greatest potential to give away.
After all, it is trials that have taken the most out of you, that leave behind the deepest imprint. Wells of love and life are broadened and deepened through suffering and perseverance. And in the process we are each given a greater capacity to be who we are. We have then, a fresh chance to love harder.
I don’t believe we were put on this planet to just be reactive to pain and hurt; rather, I believe pain and hurt are the consequence of true love. True love requires sacrifice and will always cost something we hold dear. And so in turn, pain and suffering are just a hurting world’s response to a gift that only you can give, in the way that only you can.
You were made in His image. You were made in the image of love. All of those adjectives used to describe home? Those same adjectives describe you. And that’s it, that’s the point. Our job on earth isn’t to bring people Home, it’s to bring home to people. All of that love and joy and peace and patience and kindness and goodness and faithfulness…we get to run to the people who need it the most while they’re still a long way off.
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So, there it is. That’s where I’m finishing this thing. Borderlands Coffee Shop in Arua, Uganda. Full circle. Not my smoothest writing to date; but this one I felt in my chest. My biggest takeaway out of these last three years? Out of this past season in Uganda?
You are Home.
