The day I left home....
The day I left home, the late summer cold slipped into my bones. Some might say my soul was just a little cold from the mixed emotions of leaving all that was known. While others might argue it was a slow, soft yet urgent wish of a young woman’s fancy for great adventure, infused with the uncertainty of what was to come. But some would say it was just the cold ocean breeze once again covering the bay in that dim sunlight. It’s the kind of light that looks inviting, but as soon as you step into it, the rays of sunshine just leave you wanting.
My car was packed with books and possessions I thought I would need for college. My hopes high with the anticipation of new things and independence.
The day I left home, it was the first time I had ever driven on a freeway for more than ten minutes. The first time I realized how much I hated material possessions, and the first time I felt the rush of excitement from the adventure I had always craved.
Over the next five years, home became a relative term. I moved into a friend’s house and out, into dorms and out of dorms, into my first apartment and out, and back into a friend’s house. I found myself spending my summers in an Italian apartment, a Swedish home, trekking across Europe, sleeping in various hotels in different countries, staying in a high school boarding house in the middle of Germany, and staying in a chalet in the Swiss Alps. Home became wherever I laid my head for the night.
But now, for the first time in my life my home is constant. I have no plans to move or go anywhere. I admit it is a peculiar feeling to go from every couple months moving to a new location or sometimes a new country, to be staying in one spot.
Today I sat in chapel; up in front of me my students worshipped.
"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders,
Let me walk upon the waters,
Wherever You would call me.
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander And my faith will be made stronger In the presence of my Savior." (Oceans)
I always associated this song with a strong sense of fear and anxiety. I often imagined Peter stepping out of that comfortable boat. I wanted to be like Peter, but it became a source of performance driven expectations. Was I uncomfortable enough? Had I stepped out far enough? My desire of living the uncomfortable Christian lifestyle had become a wedge driven between the Lord and me.
"Lead me where my trust is without border," the song says. There is no fear or anxiety in the arms of God.
The western church has associated comfortability with negativity. But comfortability in the arms of the Father is simultaneous with trust. Christ should be the safest and most intimate place on this earth.
Home for me has become infused with the presence of Jesus.
Instead of "the day I left home," it has turned into "at the end of the day I get to go home." Community has become integrated and woven into my weekly rhythm. I have a rockstar husband that I get to come home to every night. We get to "argue" about silly newly wed things like whose side of the bed I should sleep on and whose turn it is fold the laundry. Being in one spot for longer than six months has its perks especially when sharing it with people you love.
I will always love to travel and see the world. There has not been a time that I can remember that I did not want to just go places. But for now I am content to stay in this place.
