The other day I had a conversation with a friend. This friend is restless, and needing a change…Going “home” after college, as an adult, can be hard. You have to live up to expectations, and live down potential past mistakes, etc.
I told him I don’t have that problem, because I don’t know where “home” is.
I think I was wrong.
Because I just looked at this picture and I teared up.
This picture, to most of you, is a grainy shot of what appears to be a dusty street with a few houses.
But to me, the house there in the very middle, that is “home.”
My family moved a lot during my childhood, and I ended up attending 3 high schools in 4 years. I made wonderful memories at each, and am thankful for all the people I met and formed friendships with.
But that picture- that grainy Google Maps shot, that is my childhood.
That picture, to ME, represents…
-hours of playtime
-rolling in the grass with our beloved family dog
-climbing atop the wall, watching the world go by
-sleeping on cold tile floors to avoid the African heat
-learning to bake in a sweltering kitchen
-rollerskating down the street, taking turns on the sidewalk with the herds of cattle
-biking with friends to the neighborhood pool
-playing “house” in the treehouse that my Dad built for us
-reading on the porch swing as the first rain of the season, the glorious thundering end to the “Dry Season,” blew through
Why do I share this with you now, though? Seems a bit random, right? This morning I was talking to a mom friend of mine. She recently housed a few college aged kids who were away from home. One of the girls was sick, and my friend was able to give her the medicine she needed in order to get better.
My friend went on to tell me how she just couldn’t imagine having her own children be sick, miles away from home, where she wouldn’t be able to help them.
I reminded her though that the Lord had put that girl right where she needed to be, to get the medicine she needed, in order to heal. Couldn’t God do the same for her children, should they ever be away from home?
The answer is YES! A resounding, screaming YES!!!
I may be a bit lost at times, my roots may not be grounded as deeply as some. But I know, without a doubt, that God is everywhere.
He gave me a childhood, full of wonderful, precious memories- on a dry, dirty street in Africa. He kept us safe, through many illnesses and political uprest.
Then He kept us safe as we transitioned back to the US- He allowed me to meet more friends, and even my husband.
And now, as I sit in Rural Town, North Carolina…I can still repeat that God is everywhere. He is faithful.
He is my “roots.”
As I look back, His faithfulness is the common bond from place to place, from home to home, from school to school.
He is everywhere, and He is good.
All the time.
(PS- Dear Mom & Dad, I know you wish I had learned this truth a tad earlier… Sorry I didn’t fully embrace this through the teen years 🙂 )