On the Flip Side
I think *homesick* is a state of mind, or being, or something more than a way you feel. On a daily basis I mill through a long list of things I miss about the Midwest, usually it starts with dirt while I'm sweeping up sand one of the forty-seven times during the day.
I never wanted to be a homebody. As a kid I envied the new kids in school that would arrive in October and be gone by May first because "they moved around a lot". I was born in one house and five years later moved to another house less than a mile away, and that is where my parents will spend the rest of their lives. In high school I pined for a life on the road, seeking anyone that would let me tag along. It wasn't that I was discontent with my family or the life they gave me; it was just in my blood to get out and see the rest of what was out there.
So I spent weeks at my Grandma's house, worked summer camps as often as possible, found people that would take me out Emporia for the weekend, and then after I graduated I took off to work with a mission in the city in Chicago. From there I moved to Missouri to attend college and found my life's work and my soul mate who has taken me on an incredible journey from Mississippi to Nebraska to Missouri and now to sweet California. And I have loved the journey.
But what I have come to realize is that once you've done it, you've done it and frankly, we've done it and I'm ready to come home to Midwest, a place that I never dreamed I would want to be. I miss the seasons. I miss storms. And just one more thing, I miss being able to see my family whenever I can work it out, because no matter what I do, it takes a lot more than me just working it out for anyone to visit.
To counter this *state of mind* I remind myself of the curve around the mountain where you get first sight of the vineyards outside of Santa Ynez county. They spring out of nowhere, breathtaking and spectacular. And our neighborhood, the more people we meet, the more warm the whole area becomes. People have come out of the woodwork to shower us with God's blessings. Not to mention the mountains. Or the ocean. They speak for themselves as perks of the west coast; they are the reason this area was ever settled; it's such unspeakable beauty, a facet of God's creative nature in plain sight. It's never 90 degrees here, not where we live anyway. I love sweatshirt weather, and usually I put one on at some point everyday.
God is amazing the way He answers the dreams of our heart. And even more amazing the way He plants them long before we are able to even articulate them. He is good and rich and satisfying. Life is good and I am thankful.
I never wanted to be a homebody. As a kid I envied the new kids in school that would arrive in October and be gone by May first because "they moved around a lot". I was born in one house and five years later moved to another house less than a mile away, and that is where my parents will spend the rest of their lives. In high school I pined for a life on the road, seeking anyone that would let me tag along. It wasn't that I was discontent with my family or the life they gave me; it was just in my blood to get out and see the rest of what was out there.
So I spent weeks at my Grandma's house, worked summer camps as often as possible, found people that would take me out Emporia for the weekend, and then after I graduated I took off to work with a mission in the city in Chicago. From there I moved to Missouri to attend college and found my life's work and my soul mate who has taken me on an incredible journey from Mississippi to Nebraska to Missouri and now to sweet California. And I have loved the journey.
But what I have come to realize is that once you've done it, you've done it and frankly, we've done it and I'm ready to come home to Midwest, a place that I never dreamed I would want to be. I miss the seasons. I miss storms. And just one more thing, I miss being able to see my family whenever I can work it out, because no matter what I do, it takes a lot more than me just working it out for anyone to visit.
To counter this *state of mind* I remind myself of the curve around the mountain where you get first sight of the vineyards outside of Santa Ynez county. They spring out of nowhere, breathtaking and spectacular. And our neighborhood, the more people we meet, the more warm the whole area becomes. People have come out of the woodwork to shower us with God's blessings. Not to mention the mountains. Or the ocean. They speak for themselves as perks of the west coast; they are the reason this area was ever settled; it's such unspeakable beauty, a facet of God's creative nature in plain sight. It's never 90 degrees here, not where we live anyway. I love sweatshirt weather, and usually I put one on at some point everyday.
God is amazing the way He answers the dreams of our heart. And even more amazing the way He plants them long before we are able to even articulate them. He is good and rich and satisfying. Life is good and I am thankful.
Sometimes it's hard to see the good things around you when you're homesick for the familiar surroundings of your past. Keep your eyes open for new favorites and your chin up for your family and remember you're loved throughout many states.
ReplyDelete