How is it to be back home?
That’s the number one question that I have been asked since getting back “home” two weeks ago. And in those moments all I want to do is scream or cry. It has led me to ask myself some really hard questions.
Am I actually home? What even is the definition of home? Who tells me where my home is? Do I want to be “home”?
I know I sound like a child but hear me out.
My definition of “home” has changed. I don’t think it’s a place but a feeling. The feeling you get when you see the people that mean the most to you. The feeling you get watching another African sunset. The feeling you get when a child runs over to hold your hand as you’re walking. The feeling you get when your brother asks if you want to get dinner. The feeling you get when you FaceTime your best friends after a long day at work.
Home is where the heart is.
I know it’s cliche but it’s true. & right now I’m not really sure where that is. You see, my heart broke into a hundred different pieces when I landed in America. Some pieces I left in Africa, some went to different states, and some pieces are here in Alabama. & I want so badly to pick up those pieces and put them back together. But I am learning I can not do that. Only God can. He is using these broken pieces to make something beautiful and I can not wait to see how it turns out.
So here is to the summer of finding myself. Figuring out just who I am. Dreaming big and finding purpose in those dreams. Trusting the Lord in the unknown and in seasons of waiting. Here is to the summer of growth.
much love,
Ellen
