It was the summer after 4th grade when I went to camp for the first time. I’d actually spent my first summer on earth at Ligonier and went on to spend 5 summers there as a camper and then later as a counselor. But that first summer I was homesick. I was in a cabin with three girls from my church, but still missed home. I remember the way my heart squeezed so tight that I thought it would surely burst and each breath burned my throat even though it barely filled my lungs. It was the first time I realized that you could physically feel an emotion. One night I was laying in bed trying to not make any noise as tears slipped down my cheeks…and then one of my friends just came and climbed into bed with me. She didn’t ask, she didn’t say anything, she just laid down beside me. And that was enough.
Since then I’ve learned to say hello and goodbye to people all the time. Someone is always coming and going. And it’s usually me. Even before the race. In the past 10 years I’ve lived in West Virginia, Tennessee, Georgia and Colorado with a summer in Pennsylvania, one in Virginia and a semester in Uganda thrown in there. I think I really am a gypsy at heart.
So I don’t exactly know how to explain this “homesickness” that I feel now. Sure I miss my family and friends from home, but that’s not what hurts my heart. I read an email about women being rescued from prostitution in India and instantly I was back in Bangalore with my sweet friends. We showed pictures from our time in Africa and I could feel the heat of Lodwar pressing in around me. I told the story of Rose at youth group last week and couldn’t stop wondering how she’s doing and if she’s growing in the Lord. I’ve made my home in 9 different countries and over 70 beds in the last 8 1/2 months. I’m homesick for something, but I’m not exactly sure what. I’m homesick for someone, but I’m not exactly sure who.
It’s no longer the heart squeezing, lung burning kind of pain…more of a dull ache, a reminder of something more. A reminder of a heavenly Kingdom that isn’t bound by geography and location. And the truth is that as much as it hurts, I don’t really want to lose it. Because it reminds me that my heart is full. That I carry people and places with me everywhere I go. That the Kingdom of God is within me and within Rose and Lakshme. It’s just alive in India and the Philippines and even the good ol’ USA. And that when I say goodbye, it doesn’t mean forever.
*First pic from Ligonier, summer 1999. Second pic with Diana here in Germany.
(And bonus points if you know where the title comes from. :))
