Palm trees become tiny dots on desert as we descend over clouds, and I have the revelation seated in row nineteen when I awaken from the daydream.
My thoughts drift to home. To fluffy pillows, the smell of bleach on freshly washed sheets, birds spitting seeds on the feeder rocking wildly outside my writing window, the linger of fog in early morning and I give myself over to it. The revelation that the seaside town where my brick house wedges among the azaleas, pines and magnolias; this place is truly home.
And maybe that sounds obvious because most of us like things the way we like them, and clarity comes when we step back, live somewhere else for a while. Right?
For nine years now the distance between the desert and the ocean separate my heart from my home.
We move from dry and dust to wet and moldy. From a melting pot of ethnic and cultural diversity to sturdy roots that travel deep into layers of generations who speak the same language of life. From rock strewn latte colored mountains dotted with prickly green spires to shell shorn seamless beaches and Live Oaks canopied ancient.
When you move from place to place, a nomad wading through your life story, there is a part of your heart that hides away from the world. Because with every kind of change, comes the hard work of laying down your life to find it again. And being that kind of naked among people you don’t know, takes courage.
I tell it to those who find themselves in transition, that it takes three years. Three years to feel your own skin in a new place. To sink into history and language of culture that evolves for years before you arrive, and remain true to yourself. Three years to find your stride among the natives. And I just pass days counting three years in the eighth place we live in twenty-one years of marriage.
While flying atop a city of clouds, I look into their giant slendor and he whispers: You don’t have to be a native to be at home. You don’t have to shadow the movement of the culture to be home. Home is where you hear my voice, lay in my arms, breathe peace in my presence, be the one I created.
And sometimes it takes dangling above the clouds to see that the place where you live is home. Not bricks and mortar, but the spot carved out just for you in the world that reveals the person of Jesus.
“Peace is person, not a place.” ~Ann Voskamp
Peace follow you everywhere He leads…
Thank you, I do feel it and I am thankful.
had a hard time choosing from the beautiful photos or wonderful words to read… pray for your next transition… God is using you in many different places… how blessed you are… took me 10 years to adjust to an empty nest and I have one at home yet… LOL, better start praying now!
So appreciate your insight . . God is using you in many different places . . .I hadn’t really thought about it that way too much until you mentioned it. Thank you!
i feel this…we moved around a lot..and it actually has taken me a long time to get used to being in one place…
Me too Brian, really all my life. I have never stayed anywhere longer than eight years. Good to connect with you!
I love, love ,love your writing! Or do I love your heart or the way you think? The thoughts you pen seem to leave the screen and find a match deep within me. Just last night while walking on the lighted streets of my little town to our local library I was thinking how strange it was that I felt so at home. I thanked God for the town, the people who came before pioneering this place, the free books, energizing winter weather.
Today, Thanking God for
and Triscuits with crunchy peanut butter.
Lu, isn’t it good that we feel at home where we are? That we aren’t looking back to Egypt thinking life was or could be so much better. Contentment is a good thing. And I know how you love those Triscuits! Made me smile and lol! Love you lots.
I’ve moved around a lot in my adult life too and can relate to so much of what you’ve beautifully said. But most of all, I love your reminder that peace is not a place but a Person! And oh how I need His peace right now! Loved your post!
Unfortunately it took me nine years to get this and I don’t want it to take that long to learn the next lesson! And that quote from the wisdom of Ann Voskamp haunted me the first time I read it. Still does. Such truth it overwhelms.
oh yes….for places to be home, the peace in it all. love this as usual 🙂
Tara, always love connecting with you. I want to catch up on your posts, I am away at a conference in Houston and have had little time to read blogs which feels like being left out of the conversation!
I was blessed to move a lot throughout the early years of my marriage. Then, we settled in the one place I didn’t like. The grass is always greener, but we don’t always get to choose the side of the fence we live. I loved your images. I hope you find your spot, but I’m guessing you’re already there. 🙂
Do we ever fully get there? I am content but open to change and growth and look forward to all the newness He brings. I don’t want that to ever end. I can so relate to your moving a lot and then being in a place you don’t like. For me it has been two times living somewhere I didn’t like and it was really hard. And then I felt God said, “Your going to have to keep circling the mountain until you understand why I brought you here.” eek. When I finally let go of discontent, he moved us on!
ahh, yes, he is my home. in him, i rest. thank you for this beautiful reminder friend. lovely writing as always!
Thank you Emily, for providing a home for us to link arms every week. It’s good to have you back on the blogosphere.
Thanks for sharing this. I love it – Peace is a Person not a place.
And you can take Peace with you wherever you go. Isn’t that great? What if you couldn’t?
Great question Jerri! One I hopefully won’t have to experience but good to ponder because we often take that peace for granted, don’t we?
This is very well written. Very much on point for me. I too moved around quite a bit in life. There are benefits in meeting different people and appreciating different cultures. But it does leave a sense of being an “outsider” not fully “belonging.” Even though I am still very close to many people I have met in the different place I have lived. It is a difficult sensation to explain. I have been living in an area that I can say I have lived in for the longest period of my life. Yet that feeling of not fully belonging persists. Just like elevator music as you go on about life. I am not certain if one way is better than the other. You know living and dying in the same town. Or spending your life exploring all the beautiful place that God has created. Either way it boils down to this. Home is indeed where the heart rests. And mine rests in the Beloved and a few wonderful people I have met along the way.
Thank you for this post and inviting me to explore that elevator music of my life.
God bless you
Rich, rich post here.
I keep coming back to these words here … “..the hard work of laying down your life to find it again.” And this is perhaps the root of my own stubborn ways.
Grateful for you, your words, your wisdom. Thank you for “sharing the peace.” 🙂