There are days that my head is buzzing and I'm left deciding what, if anything, is important enough to say. Today is one of those days. I am hesitantly entering this new season of transition as my tangled mind attempts to make sense of my somersaulting heart.
This morning about 20 friends and I walked to the beach to watch the sunrise. We walked under a bridge that a man named Greg calls "home". Silently we filed past the heap of fabric where he slept so as not to disturb his rest. It made me realize that the past three years have transformed my concept of "home".
I pray that we always learn to tap into contentment and joy no matter where we find ourselves; that we keep our treasures in heaven and make "home" in The solid Rock instead of shifting sands. Lets seek the wisdom to know where to put down our roots, and the courage to open our hearts and doors to those around us.
This morning about 20 friends and I walked to the beach to watch the sunrise. We walked under a bridge that a man named Greg calls "home". Silently we filed past the heap of fabric where he slept so as not to disturb his rest. It made me realize that the past three years have transformed my concept of "home".
In the Spring of 2010, I moved to Chicago and into a dorm room on the 4th floor of Houghton at Moody Bible Institute, and let it slowly become "home".
During the Summer of 2011, I lived in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Initially I couldn't have felt more alienated, but it became "home" and it was one of the hardest places I've ever had to leave.
In the Fall of 2011, I became an RA and joined the 10th floor of Houghton. I experienced the fastest transition to "family" I ever have.
These years have been seemingly lived out of a suitcase; all my memories are kept between the book-ends of transitions. I'm learning that, this side of Heaven, all ground is temporary. "Home" isn't about the walls we build, it's about the ones we tear down. It isn't necessarily about the physical place in which we exist, but the people we do life with. It's less about the "where" and more about the "who" that we are becoming and the "who" that is around us. The only constant is that of the foundation of Christ. The only unchanging One is God. For everything, and everyone, else there are seasons and times - beginnings and ends - and that's okay.
These years have been seemingly lived out of a suitcase; all my memories are kept between the book-ends of transitions. I'm learning that, this side of Heaven, all ground is temporary. "Home" isn't about the walls we build, it's about the ones we tear down. It isn't necessarily about the physical place in which we exist, but the people we do life with. It's less about the "where" and more about the "who" that we are becoming and the "who" that is around us. The only constant is that of the foundation of Christ. The only unchanging One is God. For everything, and everyone, else there are seasons and times - beginnings and ends - and that's okay.
I pray that we always learn to tap into contentment and joy no matter where we find ourselves; that we keep our treasures in heaven and make "home" in The solid Rock instead of shifting sands. Lets seek the wisdom to know where to put down our roots, and the courage to open our hearts and doors to those around us.
