Home. Where is it? It’s become a nebulous concept for me after all these years. Why is it that we have such a need to call something a home? I don’t know, but we do, and when we don’t have it there is a lostness, a feeling of not being tethered.
In our last few days in China, Megan cried to me a few times that she wanted to go “home.” She meant our recently vacated house. It is still your home when someone else’s belongings now fill it? As we descended the escalator at the airport that took us out of sight of our friends, she again cried, “I want to go home!” It broke my heart to keep leading her away from it.
Our next home awaits us in Orlando, although right now it is an empty house. How long will we have to be there before it feels like home for us?
Last night I was praying for someone I know who recently moved to Orlando. She posted on her blog about some of their transition stress, and as I was praying for her, I felt led to pray that they would find that sense of home in Orlando.
I prayed it because that is my desire for our family as well. We are in that in between place where our roots have been pulled up and have not yet sunk in elsewhere. It will be awhile before we find home again, but I know we will.