Today is a weird morning. We had family stay over last night, so everything is in its normal state of company-induced disarray. Cooper, my 5'10" baby brother, is away at football camp, and both my parents are at work. And today I'm leaving to go back to my other home in Lubbock. This summer wasn't what I expected it to be. I didn't plan to spend a good chunk of it in the house where I grew up, with my four favorite people in the world. Last summer, it drove me insane to do that. This year? I couldn't get enough of it.
I'm turning 21 in eight days. I am a senior in college. I have lived away from my family for three years. I have driven away from this house more times than I can count. Why is it so hard to leave my home now?
I don't have the answer to that question. I don't know why I stayed this summer; nor do I know why I am so reluctant to leave. I've thought of crying several times already, and I may still.
I've stopped searching for the answers to those kinds of questions: why I did XYZ. The answers can't change my actions, past or future. And sometimes it's not for me to know even my own needs very clearly. The point is that God knows, and He takes care of them.
As I pack up all my stuff (Guys, how do I have so much stuff?) and load it into the car, though, I am reminded of where Home really is.
Somewhere there's a song (I don't know what it is -- I only know that it exists) that says, "Home is wherever I'm with you." This morning, with the sun shining through the blinds onto my legs, that is my song to Jesus. Home, my Lord, is wherever You are.
And Your home is wherever I am, because You have made Your home in me.
You are Immanuel. God with us. You are with me and I am with You and at home with You. Wherever I am, I take home with me.
What an inexpressible comfort. I feel like a small child tossed about by forces too big for me. But in that unrest Jesus comes to me and tells me that He is my safe place. As all the Psalms say, "The Lord is my refuge." He is Home.
So when I leave my house today, sadness is allowed. It's wholesome and healthy. But may I remember that my Home is a Person, and I take Him with me wherever I go.