Homeless

In one of our sessions today, our Curriculum Specialist (who is about the equivalent of our education professor for the summer) asked us all to share a high and low. My high was that I am so excited to finally move to NC and meet the students that I get to keep for so much longer. My low was that I am really sad to leave Chicago and my students here. I teared up when I said that last one. It amazes me how attached you can get to kids you've only know for a few weeks. I can't imagine what it will be like to say goodbye to students I've taught for a year.

So we are wrapping up our last week in Chicago. I can't believe how fast this has gone. I am quickly approaching yet another one of those points that used to be a distant speck: the final move to NC. Another reality check, another sunset, another sunrise, another level of "I am really doing this."

On Sunday, I'll pack everything I own into my car and move halfway across the country. To tell you the truth, I feel a little homeless. (and not just because I don't actually have a place to live nailed down in NC yet...) All my stuff is in boxes balanced on various surfaces in my parents’ house, and when people ask for my mailing address, I really don’t know what to tell them. The other day, I was trying to use weather.com, and I literally could not remember what state I was in (sleep deprivation probably wasn't helping). I put down deep roots. I miss the people who've known me the longest, ordering “the usual,” and wouldn't mind staying somewhere long enough to make unpacking worth the effort.

But what I’m realizing is maybe home isn’t a place, not really.

While part of me longs for something permanent and stable, the very system to which I’ve surrendered my life, where I’ve placed my faith, tells me this whole world is transient, passing away. This is not my home.

So maybe its family, friends old and new, all the people that I love, regardless of their geographical location. Maybe they’re my home. Nearness to God, the way my faith grows deeper when I don’t have anything else that’s familiar to lean on, maybe that’s home. It could just be because I'm moving away, but I like the way that sounds.

So while I'm still a little homesick and miss a lot of people and things, I’m starting to redefine some things. And the idea of ‘home’ is one of them. If I am homeless, I think that’s ok. Maybe it’s more than ok, even great; part of the wonderful mystery of this life.

In Him we live, and move, and have our being. Acts 17:28

Feels like home to me.