I could write on the topic of home over and over again, because my heart is in pieces all over the US and the world. I have left parts of it with each member of my family, wherever they are (meaning a large concentration of pieces exists in upstate NY), pieces in New Zealand, pieces in India, pieces with people I've met in Australia, Germany, and other countries, and now, pieces of me in NC.
For those whom I haven't told, or haven't heard, I now reside in Virginia, right off the route that takes me both to NY and to NC, and I'm making a new home; a home I have no plans of leaving any time soon. Building community again, and reflecting on what home is...
There was about a month where I was "homeless". I had a place to sleep, and friends I consider family that offered me a home, but I didn't have "my" space. Work (church) became the place that kept my routine going, my sanity (most of the time) in place, and the place where it was "mine". Then, two days before I was supposed to travel for my trial weekend, the church was broken into, things stolen, door jambs split, and glass all over the floor... This space had just been violated. Already being in a time of transition meant this hit me more than it would have any other time. Suddenly, even church wasn't safe. I was constantly wondering if the doors were locked (something we always struggled with), if, when I showed up for work in the morning there would be someone else in the building with me, or, if somewhere there was another weakness being exploited...
Of course, no-where is ever completely safe from intruders and/or damage. No place is anything but that: a place. Home is more than that. Home is WAY more than that.
Home is the people you care about, the people you love, the people that have molded and shaped you through your interactions, great or small.
I wrote quite a lot as I was preparing to move, much of it private that will never see the light of day (until I publish a book, perhaps!). But still I wrote. And I drew. And I spent a lot of time thinking...
My move was not a bad thing. It is something to be celebrated - finishing seminary, being ordained - the next step is to find a ministry position - and my church was SO supportive of me and my accepting this call. But the move definitely brought up things I hadn't realized before; the main one being:
I have a very big family biologically, but I consider a lot of people part of my family outside that.
There is way more to that than I have time to write tonight, nor do I know for sure if this is the space to write that out in. Suffice it to say, I have many, many friends that I consider family, even if they don't consider me family (the nature of pretty much always not being geographically close to family).
So, here I am, sitting in my new living room, again procrastinating the next stage of settling in (going through all the things that got thrown into boxes because I could "sort them out later"), writing the first blog in a long time. Hoping to make it more regular, but for now, going to watch a movie.
Also, family, come visit me. :-)
For those whom I haven't told, or haven't heard, I now reside in Virginia, right off the route that takes me both to NY and to NC, and I'm making a new home; a home I have no plans of leaving any time soon. Building community again, and reflecting on what home is...
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| They gave me cookies for signing my lease!! |
There was about a month where I was "homeless". I had a place to sleep, and friends I consider family that offered me a home, but I didn't have "my" space. Work (church) became the place that kept my routine going, my sanity (most of the time) in place, and the place where it was "mine". Then, two days before I was supposed to travel for my trial weekend, the church was broken into, things stolen, door jambs split, and glass all over the floor... This space had just been violated. Already being in a time of transition meant this hit me more than it would have any other time. Suddenly, even church wasn't safe. I was constantly wondering if the doors were locked (something we always struggled with), if, when I showed up for work in the morning there would be someone else in the building with me, or, if somewhere there was another weakness being exploited...
Of course, no-where is ever completely safe from intruders and/or damage. No place is anything but that: a place. Home is more than that. Home is WAY more than that.
Home is the people you care about, the people you love, the people that have molded and shaped you through your interactions, great or small.
I wrote quite a lot as I was preparing to move, much of it private that will never see the light of day (until I publish a book, perhaps!). But still I wrote. And I drew. And I spent a lot of time thinking...
My move was not a bad thing. It is something to be celebrated - finishing seminary, being ordained - the next step is to find a ministry position - and my church was SO supportive of me and my accepting this call. But the move definitely brought up things I hadn't realized before; the main one being:
I have a very big family biologically, but I consider a lot of people part of my family outside that.
There is way more to that than I have time to write tonight, nor do I know for sure if this is the space to write that out in. Suffice it to say, I have many, many friends that I consider family, even if they don't consider me family (the nature of pretty much always not being geographically close to family).
So, here I am, sitting in my new living room, again procrastinating the next stage of settling in (going through all the things that got thrown into boxes because I could "sort them out later"), writing the first blog in a long time. Hoping to make it more regular, but for now, going to watch a movie.
Also, family, come visit me. :-)
