Hey guys! Sorry this post is a day late. Coming back to the States has been so busy, and I feel like the past week I have been just running around like a crazy person. As soon as I got in, I got to hang out with my family before going to spend the rest of the week in Nashville with friends. Today was the first time that I’ve been able to sit down and finish this post while trying to organize the rest of this month. Even with this time, I don’t feel that organized. . . so we’ll see how the rest of August goes.
I know that this is probably more philosophical question than what I normally would try to tackle, but it is something that is going through my head a lot in this first week being back to visit the States. I am conflicted every time the word “home” gets thrown into a question or needs to be put into an answer.
I’ve never felt like a place is home. It’s one of those weird things about me, and I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not because I don’t love any place, because I have certainly loved the community where I grew up, the community where I went to university, and the community where I live now. It’s not for lack of love that I don’t feel home.
I think it is just my unconscious recognition that everything is temporary. Everything has its season, including where is “home.” In my teen and adult life, I have spent the years moving abroad and moving back and forth. I haven’t settled down anywhere. I think I have this romanticized idea of adulthood and settling down and staying somewhere for the rest of my life and this idea that there will be one day where I get somewhere and just think, “I never want to leave here.” I have known people who have done that, and they have that sense of being home. However, I also have seen those who put their identity so much into where they call home, only to have to be uprooted and moved. I must hold those things loosely.
I don’t have an answer to where is actually home. I don’t know how to tell you guys how to be able to tell where is home. All I know is that I am lucky to have lived in so many places that are full of people who love and care for me. Maybe one day I will have that epiphany about a place and want that to be my official home. But until then, I’ll follow the Lord as He sends me where He wants to.
To you guys, what makes a place home? Is anyone else like me where they don’t feel like they have a feeling of “home?” And if yes, how do you guys deal with it? Leave answers in the comments, because I’m genuinely interested since this is such a big theme in my adult life!