I thought about this on my drive home from her service, it was the loveliest sunset I ever saw on that drive home. Then I thought about home.
I have often found myself feeling jealous of the kids who grew up in one house. I know I would be a very different person if I didn't experience what I did in my life. Perhaps I thought of my growing up as dysfunctional, and I just wanted normalcy. I remember being bitter about the lack of consistency in our living situation growing up. But I think about it now and realize I am am much more flexible person than most. And there was consistency in my life. In my relationships, especially between my parents and myself. There was a consistency in what home was. No matter where we were, mom was sure to set up a "nest" it didn't matter how small or how long we were there, she set up that security for us, and were only all the better for it. I find myself wanting to establish a sense of home no matter where I am. Whether it be to put up a picture frame from home, or to put a milk crate on it's side and put a pretty cloth over it for a side table next to the bed, I will almost immediately "nest" make a home wherever I am. And it's amazing to me how much more comfortable I will feel in a place knowing there is a makeshift side table next to my bed.
Lately I have been thinking a lot about what I want my home to be like. And a realized I don' think as much about what I want in it, but who I want in it. I want an environment where family can come and rest, and forget about the craziness of our lives, where our daily lives are left at the door and relationships thrive. A home, where God dwells, a sanctuary in it of itself. Until that day, I have a home. Yes, I have a home now, where I feel secure, thank God. But that sense of home we all long for since we left it to be adults, that home we remember as children, I carry with me. If I can learn to let God make his home in me, I can learn to be as comfortable with myself as I am at home, when I am on my journey.
I miss home, I miss mom, she was home to me. It's my turn to create for others what she created for me. It is my turn to bless others with the sense of comfort I had. It's going to be a while before I can provide a roof and the environment I dream of, but why not provide the love I have now? That is what God has called us to after all isn't it?
Being on a journey far from home is hard, it's lonely, but there is no greater comfort than knowing out on that road there is something to come home to. While I was in Ireland I was able to rest knowing my family was home, loving on each other, and they would be there when I got back. There is nothing like the lessons learned out on the road, especially when it's a lonely road, but I am all the better a person for them.
I don't really know why this has been on my heart lately, but I can say it's a lifelong dream to have a home like the one my mom created. Things have been hard this last year, but so far, it has only become better, more like home. There is something familiar in being able to love someone. There is something like being a child again when you can laugh so hard your belly hurts, like when you did when you were little. Being able to have a conversation where you don't worry what they will think, because you know they will love you anyway, and genuinely care how you feel about something. At home, is where I can be the most real, genuine person I can be, which can be frightening at times, especially before 7 a.m. and coffee. Home, to me, has been found again. It's going to be a journey before I can have my own, but I can carry this with me now. My wonderful family, my wonderful Justin, but most of all, my God, moves me to find my way back home. And my God is all the home I could ask for.