Home (where my love lies waiting silently for me)

Four weeks left of work.  Five weeks until I leave.  Six months away from all the things about ‘home’ that keep me tied to Wisconsin.  ‘Home’ has been a word I’ve struggled with the past few years, or perhaps most of my life.  I’ve desperately wanted a home, someplace to belong.  At the same time, I’ve fought against it – wanting to be free.  I’ve been a home-wrecker in various ways over the years.  Simultaneously, I’ve encouraged others to sink more deeply into their own home.  I’ve tried to not need it, told myself I don’t deserve it, and have attempted to find lesser substitutions for it – but let’s face it.  We all, on some level, want someplace to belong.

 

Now I wonder if I am absolutely crazy – to leave behind all the things and people that feel like some semblance of ‘home’ in order to be homeless for half a year.  I mean, it’s a bit counter-intuitive.  If I need a home, why become homeless?  And what will be here for me when I return?  Everyone else will continue living while I’m gone; everyone else will move on.  And I’ll have to try to catch up.  Conversely, I’ll have 6 months of creating a different trajectory from everyone here at home.  Will I be so different that I will end up fitting in even less than I do now? 

Yes, yes, I know.  That’s fear talking.  Not faith. That’s shame talking, not love or hope.  Give me a moment.  I’ll come around.

The Sunday School answer is “God is your home.”  And in many ways, I’m realizing that more and more.  I’m just a thru-hiker on earth, making my way back home to heaven.  Yes, the answer to the question of the Universe really is simply “God.”  And perhaps when we all achieve nirvana, truly transcend life’s fallen circumstances, when we find Utopia, we’ll all sit around, playing harps, laughing as we reminisce about days on earth and how we struggled for the answer when He (the Answer) was calling to us every moment of every day.

However, I’m not in Utopia, and I haven’t transcended all my doubts and insecurities and imperfections.  So, therefore, I live divided.  I know God is home.  I know He is enough.  And yet, I still want more.  And God, in his infinite goodness, has something for me.  If I am patient enough to sit in my non-transcendent state until that Home on earth develops.  Egads, I’m waxing philosophical. 

I’ve been listening to Simon and Garfunkel’s “Homeward Bound” quite a bit.  I’m putting it on my mp3 player to take on the Trail.  It seems ironic.  I’m the opposite of homeward bound, and yet, this trek feels like a step toward home – toward what could become a place I do belong.  Perhaps it’s merely a settling more into who I am so I belong in my own skin, and not always trying to fit in with others around me.  Perhaps it’s a break away from the patterns and substitutions for ‘home’ that I’ve made for myself that aren’t healthy.  Perhaps it’s a sieve through which what isn’t ‘home’ now will fall through, but that which is remains steadfast to the end of the Trail.  Perhaps it’s a time away from all that’s familiar so I can sift through internally what is truly ‘home’ for me here.  Perhaps I’ll become less divided, and God can really become my home.  Everyone else will be a blessed extension of God’s home for me.  And perhaps I can become a better home, a better oasis – for God and others.

My journey away from this version of home begins very soon.  I have no idea what will happen when I step into that void of solitude, of anonymity, of total surrender to the elements of nature around me.  It’s a white fog – one I can’t see into or through to the other side.  The reality of the relationships I could lose (or significantly change) in the next six months is becoming tangible.  I grieve for the potential loss, and I’m not quite ready to embrace the potential new future because I haven’t let go of the present reality.  That’s where I am today – recognizing a need to let go of one potential for the sake of another, but not quite ready to do so because my fear of losing what I have of ‘home’ now is larger than my faith that God will provide what I really need. 

They say self-awareness is half the battle.  Thanks for the opportunity for a little self-discovery.