Apr 4, 2020


Quarantined, Reflections

Lejos de Hogar

Feeling a little homesick lately, but what is home anyway? I haven’t spent more than a year or so in one spot since graduating high school. I haven’t ever owned property or had any sort of place to call my own. But does home require ownership? Is home people? I miss my mom and dad tons lately. The kind of missing that gives me knots in my stomach. But I’ve spent much, much longer periods of time away from them without feeling this longing for “home.” It’s a reoccurring theme in my life, I guess. It creeps up on me from time to time, no matter where I am, even in the geographical region I grew up in. What is “home” and when will I find it? I don’t want to sound ungrateful. The place I’m at is beautiful, and I’m grateful to have a roof over my head and my husband and children with me. But it always seems like we are soujourned. Like we can never get off our toes and be fully comfortable. I’m ready to plant our roots somewhere and let them grow deep deep deep. But it seems whenever we find a spot or think we have a plan worked out, bam… coronavirus. Or something less intense, but with the same effect. Uprooted. Dreaming of Zion.