I almost titled this blog “coming home”, but realized that “home” has become a very fluid term and can’t be a place I come to. Home is and has been.
The past 8 months “home” has looked like everything and anything. Home has looked like houses, hostels, bunkhouses, and bases. Home has looked like the feeling of sitting with my team- my 8 sisters who know me best and love me fiercely. Home has looked like laughing in the kitchen with strangers who turned into family. Home has looked like vulnerability, and no space to fake it.
Home has looked like the arms of the Father, my true home keeping me steady in the midst of 8 months of struggle, change, and refining.
Home has looked like anything and everything. So it feels weird to say “coming home”.
Instead, I’m returning. Im returning to a physical place that isn’t really home right now, but has a lot of people that sure feel like it.
I’m returning.
After a lot of prayer and waiting, I’ve decided to return from the race to Minnesota early.
As some of you know, my Grandma, sweet and sassy LaVay, has been fighting cancer for several years. She’s fought well, and now it’s time for me to spend time with her as her battle winds down.
I’m nervous about returning and change and not really knowing what “normal life” is going to be.
I’m also full of peace. I have abundant peace from the Spirit. Peace amidst this chaos.
All in all, I share all this with a heart full of gratitude. Gratitude for the friends and family who prayed and gave, gratitude for my little big family in Cambodia and the countless lessons they’ve taught me and moments in which they’ve loved me so well.
This season is ending, a new one is beginning, and I have hope of what’s to come and who God is.
