I’m home this week. Where I climbed trees, learned to ride a bike, drove my first car, had my first kiss. I’m in my hometown. The stomping grounds where trips to the ferry steps were often, late night coffee at Finnegans was a must, and the air smells like freedom. The mountains of my youth surround me, cradling me in the majesty of the Rockies.
I went to high school here. I brought home awards and moved my tassel from one side to the other in the name of the Braves. I was married here. I walked down the isle to meet my best friend at the alter and change my name. I am home.
Saturday evening watching my oldest nephew marry his best friend. It was a beautiful wedding, with a mountain backdrop and prairie flowers waiving them to their promise. My whole family is here, for the first time in 5 years we are together, with laughter, tears and new additions. I am home.
Yesterday I was semi-offered a job here, and it was so hard turning it down. It is evident now, 2 years later, why we had to make the move to the Western Washington. I know with hindsight that it was what was best for my family, and that the path there lead to our newest edition. And I am thankful for that. It has been a rainy season these last few years. Rainy with tears of joy and sorrow, and rainy for the sheer fact that we live in a rain forest. But we have grown.
The hardest part of this season is not knowing. Not knowing if our current home is where we’re meant to be for good. Not knowing if the ache we feel at coming home is a temporary or permanent thing. But there is peace in knowing that there is a plan. Jeremiah 29:11 tells us “‘For I know the plans I have for you’ says the Lord. ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.” So I will wait in the peace of his promise. I will soak up the mountains and revel in the sunsets. And I will rest in the security of knowing that home is truly wherever
he places me.