A few days ago, Ryan and I were skyping with his sister and
she asked a question that I have been mulling over the last few days. She said, “Now that you have been in
India for a while, does it feel like home?”
What does home
feel like? Home feels like a place
where you can be yourself and know that you are loved. Home feels like laughing with your best
friend, crying with your Mom, joking with your brother, eating your favorite
foods, going on dates with your husband, praying, singing, and dancing with
people who have grown up in similar way as you have.
Home is always
some kind of illusive place we all want to go back to. Like going back to the garden, before
the world went wrong. It is a
place where all is right. We walk
with God in truth and vulnerability when we are truly at home. There is only beauty there. That home doesn’t quite exist here on
earth, but it will. God is
recreating the garden and he is doing it in Jesus, so I will continue to wait,
long, and hopefully be a part in some small way of bringing the new garden, the
new kingdom to this earth.
Here in India,
I will always be stared at and misunderstood simply because I am from a foreign
land. In that way, no I do not
feel at home. BUT, I am “making a
home here.” There is a difference. It doesn’t always look the way I expect it to look, or feel the way
I expect it to feel, but it is slowly happening.
