The Subject of Home

Last month I was having a rough time. The thought of going back to the States terrified me. You see, while I was away my parents and younger sister had moved away from my hometown and the home I'd known since I was born. They'd moved so far away that it wouldn't be possible to visit my old church and friends, even once a month. This left me with the ever present question of where to go when I get back to the States: move to my hometown or move near my parents?

At the beginning of last month, I was mentally kicking and screaming, digging in my heels wishing I wouldn't have to leave this place that I've come to call home in Cardiff. But due to legal reasons, visas and such, I must leave. My emotions were everywhere as I tried to get everything done that I'd wanted to do in my time in Cardiff, as well as trying to see everyone before I left indefinitely.

I had been intentional about not making plans for after Cardiff until I was back in the States. I'd felt like God had been telling me to not make plans for afterwards because it would distract from what I was doing in the moment in Cardiff. I wanted to finish well. So I didn't make plans. And that scared me more than a little.

For the last few months, whenever I thought about going back "home" I felt like an astronaut, floating above the planet without really knowing where I would land. I felt like, if I didn't know where "home" was then I would have no gravity to pull me back to earth. I was afraid that I would forever be one of those people who remained unsettled and was always traveling. For the creature of habit that I am, the thought of never settling does not sound all that wonderful.

People were always asking me those dreaded questions: So where will you go back to? What are your plans for when you go back? I know these people were all well meaning and they were asking in a caring way, but the idea that I had no answer for them or myself was very scary. I wanted to know what was next too, but I had no plans.

But then, a couple of weeks ago, I discovered that I had a peace about it all. I had been asking friends to pray that I would have peace, so I can only assume it was God who had given it to me. I was able to face leaving with a level head and not feel like a small child rebelling against the inevitable. I've always known I couldn't stay.

But just last week, my last week in my beloved city, I had a new thought. My sweet landlady and my dear friend had thrown me a surprise going-away party! I love surprises and I have a special place in my heart for all who came to wish me well. It was in this time of sad goodbyes that I realized: I'm not a traveler without a home; I'm traveler with many homes! I had been so sad about leaving that I didn't recognize that this sadness wasn't because I'll just be leaving this city, but rather, because I'll be leaving this new home and friends that had been made here.

I might not know where I'm going in this next year, but I know that I now have at least 3 places that I can go home to. I know that as a traveler, and a follower of Christ, I can go to any of these places and expect open arms to welcome me. I don't know where I will live in the future, but I know where I can drop anchor and those are places where I've lived in the past. As a traveler, I can expect that I will be having many houses/flats in the future, maybe all in different cities or countries, but then I will have homes there too. I can feel welcomed when going back.

I know that I will miss my home in Cardiff, and I'm already missing the dear people I've come to know there. I will continue to pray for those I've met who have not met the Lord yet, and I will pray with those who are already my sibling in Christ. I'm glad to now know in my heart that Cardiff will always be another place that I can call "home".