Yeah, but I'm not so sure
That home is a place
That will ever be the same
- Southbound Train, Jon Foreman
My thoughts are a bit scattered tonight. But there are a couple themes that seem to be recurring in them: change, and the importance of making the most of opportunities to invest in the lives of the people God has put in mine. Mostly, they in some way relate to the idea of "home."
I've been thinking lately about how nothing stays the same. The only constant in life is change, so they say. Even though I came back here to the Northwest, the place I was born and lived my first 22 years, it is not exactly as I left it. Nor is my life here now the same as the life I lived in this place before. The things I did before (school) are no longer a part of my daily life. The people I spent most of my time with have moved away. I heard a quote recently that moved me. It was said by Margaret Gehrke, who was one of the first people to visit many of the national parks in the US, upon her return to a park she had previously visited: "The old familiar mountain side with its cabins, the snowy peaks beyond, the rush of water. All the same, only I am different." It is interesting that you can return to a place, which may seem stationary and timeless, but find that your previous experience of it was unique and can never be replicated.
When I was traveling in 2007, I read A Woman's Europe, and one of the stories particularly stood out to me. Though the context was somewhat different from mine, I identified with the writer's experience. The chapter was After Midnight, by Stephanie Elizondo Griest, and documented her experience studying abroad in Moscow. Griest writes,
When I packed my bags for Moscow, I somehow thought I was simultaneously wrapping twenty-one years of personal relationships into a box, tying it neatly with a ribbon, and setting it off to the side so that nothing would change in my absence. I didn't fathom that Nikki would die, or that one of my best friends would sink into a manic depression, or that my mother's hair would further gray. I didn't consider what it might feel like to know my sister was giving birth to her first child and I wasn't there to greet him. That's because true travel, the kind with no predetermined end, is one of the most selfish endeavors we can undertake - an act in which we focus soley on our own fulfillment, with little regard for those we leave behind. After all, we're the ones venturing out into the big crazy world, filling up journals, growing like weeds. And we have the gall to think they're just sitting at home, soaking in security and stability. It is only when we re-open these wrapped and ribboned boxes, upon our triumphant return home, that we discover nothing is like we had left it before.
Nothing ever stays the way you leave it, even if you think it will. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't go. You just have to be prepared and know that what you expected probably will not be what you find. I keep coming back to the idea of selfishness that Griest brings up. I know there are a lot of things I have missed in the lives of people close to me because I was not here. Weddings. Births. Graduations. Fortunately I made it home in time and did not miss the death of my mom. But realizing this, I want to make an intentional effort to use this time at home to invest in the people here who are important to me - both the new and old relationships. One thing that was made very clear to me after my mom's death is that there are no guarantees in life. You never know if you will have a second chance if you miss an opportunity. I don't want to miss any opportunities.
Recently, I realized that I am feeling pretty content to be here. And then I started feeling guilty about that because I thought I was getting complacent - no longer feeling the urgency to get out in the world and do something to make a difference. Then it occurred to me that this was actually the answer to a prayer I prayed when I returned home about a year ago, in the fall of 2008. I felt that God was going to keep me here for an extended period of time, and I was so afraid that I would miss Croatia. I prayed to be content wherever God wanted me, and to enjoy it, rather than constantly wishing to be somewhere else. And this is exactly what He had granted. God is gracious. Not only did he answer my prayer, but he has also been redefining my thinking. He has been showing me that my fears of feeling I was becoming complacent were unfounded. Complacency, I realize now, is not the lack of desire to go out - to be somewhere else - but, rather, is the condition of being content not being where God wants me. And I don't have to worry about that because I know I am where He wants me. Right now He wants me here. In Seattle. At World Vision. At UPC. At AXiD. I know that He is using me to speak into the lives of the girls and women he has called me to mentor here, and I know that He is teaching me through the people He has brought into my life in the past year, especially at work. So, I do not need to feel guilty that I am happy here. In fact, I should celebrate the answered prayers and rejoice in the blessings He has been pouring down on me. He is also showing me that this is a season that I should enjoy because it won't last forever. Eventually, He will move me into a new season, and probably a new place. And I know that I will be excited to go, but sad to leave behind what I love about this season.
And once again, I am reminded of this post. It seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same. I keep learning the same lessons over and over.
From a post on August 16th:
This excerpt from an email I wrote to a friend tonight pretty much captures where I am right now. This is a friend who understands what it is like for your heart to belong to two places - and to ache for the place it misses when it's not there - so I often talk with her about the realities and struggles that causes.
I was just pondering. I have been back in the US for almost a year. It's hard to believe. And I haven't used my passport at all in that time. Even stranger. But the strangest of all is that I don't mind. Actually, I like it. And that almost scares me a little. How could it be so easy and so quick to settle back to routine when I fought it so hard to begin with? Hmm. The only answer I have is that my prayers to be content with where I am were answered. I have no regrets, which I am thankful for. But I also pray that I don't become complacent and content to be settled. I hope that I am content only as long as I am supposed to be here and that the urge and urgency to move come flooding back as soon as they're meant to. The life I have here now is so different from the life I had here before, but still this is home. A lot of new people and totally different purpose. But with all the differences, the basic things remain the same. This is at the same time comforting and unsettling. But I am just taking one day at a time to see what happens. I saw the first fall leaves on the ground this week, and then today went out on the boat in my bikini. Seems to parallel my life in a lot of ways. Lots of back and forth that makes sense in a way, but in another way doesn't fit at all.
Interestingly, this also parallels what I wrote on the sidebar of this blog back in April or so. Funny how you can constantly be learning and later realize you have been learning the same thing all along...
I am finally starting to settle. I am starting to realize that I am going to be here in Seattle for an extended period of time, and realizing, also, that I am okay with that. Of course I will miss the adventure of traveling, the joy of spending time with friends in other countries, and the growing that comes from constantly having to adapt to new environments. But I know that this is where God has planted me for this season, and I am going to bloom where I am planted. I guess not all parts of a journey require movement.
