Home, I Guess...

I'm back in the States. It is hard to believe. We moved houses when I turned sixteen. It was tough. But it transitioned me. No longer was home a building. Home became about people - my family. As my family continued to move over the years, the house never mattered. My family was home. The more I move the more my family grows. I use that word like Africans would now. No one could ever replace my blood family, yet I've learned perhaps what it means to be the family of God as I've acquired new family. These new memebers aren't connected by blood or by marriage; they are connected by love, by spirit, by God.

Still my family is home. That continues to change as we all move. It is weird now as I sit at a computer and type in my parents house, but they don't live here. Three of the five of us are still in Africa. Two of us are now here. I'm not sure where I may settle, but one day I guess I will. I don't really expect it to be here.

As I was leaving Africa I would tell the people there that I now have two homes. I am of course from America. Yet I left not only part of my family in Africa; I left part of my heart there. I love that continent. I love those people. Part of me will always be in Africa.

Pray for me as I seek the future. Where will I live? Who will it be with? Where will I find community? Pray for me as I mourn, yet rejoice. Pray for me as I recoup and readjust. Pray for me.