I've been thinking a lot about home lately.
I only have six and a half months left here, here being my parents' house where I've lived for nearly eighteen years; here being Ohio; here being this little corner of the world where I've spent all my life to date.
But is here really home?
They say home is where the heart is, but the thing is, my heart is in so many places.
My heart is in the passenger seat of my best friend's car, where we've had so many conversations about saints and boys and love and Doctor Who and marriage and God and nothing in particular. Love you, Abbs.
My heart is in the YMCA where I've worked since sophomore year of high school, with the kids I coach, all of them messy and funny and just barely starting to grow up.
My heart is in the big library downtown, where my friends and I used to hang out like the nerds wewere are.
My heart is in the dogwood tree in my front yard. My heart is in the creek that runs through my neighborhood. My heart is in all the words I've written and all the songs I've sung in this little house here in the Midwest-that's-not-the-Midwest.
But more than any of those things, my heart is in the little chapel my best friend and I snuck into at ten pm. My heart is in the little Portiuncula chapel I found my way to last month. My heart is in the big almost-empty church downtown where my friends and I used to meet for Mass and picnics after. My heart is in the old church where I made my first communion; where I was confirmed. My heart is in the church a mile and a half down the road from my house; my heart is where He is.
Home is where His heart is.
Wherever there is a Tabernacle, there is a home for me, and by God's grace, I will not miss here too much, because how can you be homesick when you're already home?
I am leaving here this August. I am setting off on a journey; a quest of sorts. I am going to be working with NET Ministries, traveling the country telling people of His love and singing His name and being wildly, madly in love with Him and encouraging others to do the same.
I am nervous and I am excited and this is all so wild and crazy and I can't wait.
I am going on an adventure. I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I plan not to. I plan to leave myself scattered across the United States, in churches and chapels, in houses and on highways, because I plan to fall in love this year, and falling in love means being broken and fitting Someone else between the cracks until you're someone new entirely.
By the grace of God, I will be leaving here in six and a half months.
I will not be leaving home.
I only have six and a half months left here, here being my parents' house where I've lived for nearly eighteen years; here being Ohio; here being this little corner of the world where I've spent all my life to date.
But is here really home?
They say home is where the heart is, but the thing is, my heart is in so many places.
My heart is in the passenger seat of my best friend's car, where we've had so many conversations about saints and boys and love and Doctor Who and marriage and God and nothing in particular. Love you, Abbs.
My heart is in the YMCA where I've worked since sophomore year of high school, with the kids I coach, all of them messy and funny and just barely starting to grow up.
My heart is in the big library downtown, where my friends and I used to hang out like the nerds we
My heart is in the dogwood tree in my front yard. My heart is in the creek that runs through my neighborhood. My heart is in all the words I've written and all the songs I've sung in this little house here in the Midwest-that's-not-the-Midwest.
But more than any of those things, my heart is in the little chapel my best friend and I snuck into at ten pm. My heart is in the little Portiuncula chapel I found my way to last month. My heart is in the big almost-empty church downtown where my friends and I used to meet for Mass and picnics after. My heart is in the old church where I made my first communion; where I was confirmed. My heart is in the church a mile and a half down the road from my house; my heart is where He is.
Home is where His heart is.
Wherever there is a Tabernacle, there is a home for me, and by God's grace, I will not miss here too much, because how can you be homesick when you're already home?
I am leaving here this August. I am setting off on a journey; a quest of sorts. I am going to be working with NET Ministries, traveling the country telling people of His love and singing His name and being wildly, madly in love with Him and encouraging others to do the same.
I am nervous and I am excited and this is all so wild and crazy and I can't wait.
I am going on an adventure. I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I plan not to. I plan to leave myself scattered across the United States, in churches and chapels, in houses and on highways, because I plan to fall in love this year, and falling in love means being broken and fitting Someone else between the cracks until you're someone new entirely.
By the grace of God, I will be leaving here in six and a half months.
I will not be leaving home.
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