Home?

Home. I've been thinking a lot about what that means this year. It's a strange term. The dictionary definition of 'home' is "the place where one lives permanently." However, in this day and age, we seem to ascribe a deeper meaning to it, making it a word that describes how we feel about a place more than actually what it is.

When we grow up, the majority of people grow up in a home of some sort, a place where, at least in my experience, I felt comfortable. It was a place where I felt safe. It was a place I could go out into the backyard and pretend to be a Jedi, or where I could go into my room and cry, or where I could sit down at the dinner table and eat a delicious meal made by my loving mother. It was also a place where I would be disciplined if I did wrong, a place I knew that if I screwed up, I would be set right, even if there was pain involved. When you get into your teenage years, most want nothing more than to get out on their own, to set out and forge a new path away from their family. And so, after 18 years, I did just that.

My next adventure was moving an hour away and living in a small beach town called Cannon Beach, where I attended a small Bible school called Ecola. I packed up what I needed and set out to be my own man. Well, it turns out that being only an hour away from home hardly counts as being my own man. However, I did find a whole new family down there at the beach, a place where i could call home. Being able to be in a place where 120 other people loved Jesus as much as I do, and learning and growing in the Word for 7 straight months, its an experience that few people get to experience. So many people don't like to go to church because it's boring, or feels meaningless, or there is just too much drama. Sadly, these things can be true, and are true for the majority of churches. Ecola was different. Everybody loved each other, everybody wanted to see the best in others, everybody just wanted to be there worshiping God. you can't find environments like that very many places. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was darn near close. The closest I've ever seen or been to heaven.

Then I set out on the road for the summer with 4 of my friends to do 8 different summer camps for 8 weeks. It was exhausting, but I felt at home with my dear brother and sisters. We never stayed in one place for longer than a week straight, but I still felt that that van in some ways was a home in itself.

Then came this year. This year I've been in Michigan going to Compass College. I've been making films and learning tons. In fact, this is the longest I've lived in the same place since the summer after high school. Yet, I don't feel at home. I've always felt restless here. I've been trying to figure out why for the last 9 months.

And then, this morning, it hit me.

When I lived in my home town, I had my family to shelter me when times got tough. When I lived in Cannon Beach, I had the option of going to virtually an entire 120 student school to shelter me when times got tough. And during last summer, times were tough for 8 weeks, but I had my teammates to lean upon. But here.. here I don't really have anyone to lean upon incredibly. I have friends I can talk to, but I, being an introvert, either need time to myself or time with people I love to fill up my batteries. I've had people like that all my life, people I could go to to feel better or just to rest with. But this year, I don't have anyone around to fill me up. Everyone around me drains me. And that sucks. It's really no way to live. In fact, in the long run, it's a horrible way to live.

So where is home for me now? Honestly, I'm not sure. When I've gone home the couple times I have this year, it's been nice. I've definitely been filled up by being with family again. But it's still not the same as it once was. Just like my life has gone on, so has theirs. But that's life, right? And I did get to go back to Ecola for a day, and it was amazing. I tear up just thinking about being with those wonderful people again. But it was also different. They had grown up a year more, just as I had. They were on their way out to start their real lives, just as I had done a year before. So it was also different. Though the people had so much love, the town was still felt to small for me, like I needed to use all of my potencial elsewhere.

So where is home for me now? Honestly, I'm still not sure. Home will be a place where I am loved and won't be drained by those people. Home might be a new group of friends I find when I move back west. Or maybe I have to wait until I find my wife to find a home again.

Only God knows.

I take comfort in knowing I was created by a God who loves me enough to die for me, and then follow up constantly on how I'm doing, giving and taking away the whole time. I know that all of these things I go through, all of the hard times, all of the confusing times, all of the good times, all of the reunions, I know that all of these things have a purpose. They are all building me into a man, the man I originally set out to be 19 months ago.