August 26, 2010
The Nomad's Anchor
As I drove through the metroplex cities of Dallas/Fort Worth, hot wind sweeping through my hair, Audio Adrenaline blasting from my CD player, darting in and out of 5 lane traffic; I knew my life was different already. I spent the next 6 years in a place very unlike the one I grew up in. Dallas was hot, flat and full of life. I found that the city was exciting; concerts, restaurants that were open all night, shopping, celebrities, skylines, the only reason that I was ever bored was because my gas tank was empty and/or I was a poor college student. Texas was full of surprises for me like fire ants, traffic, HEAT, Tex-Mex, stolen CD Player(s) from my car, a sweetheart turned marriage, a whole new Texas family, 4-wheelers, jet-skis, poor inner-city children, Certificate of Ministry, and a bunch of beautiful friendships that I will cherish forever. It was 2007 when my circumstances began changing and I prepared for new scenery. Adam and I opened our hearts to another adventure, telling the Lord that we were willing to go anywhere.
In the Spring of 2008, my husband and I drove across the southwest states of our great country to our new home in a quiet suburb of San Diego, CA. Alpine was beautiful. The weather was perfect. I remember commenting that the Garden of Eden may have been located in this precious town. Over the course of the past 2 years, I have fallen in love with many elements. I love the harvest of fresh fruit that falls off of the trees at this time of year, 300 days of sunshine a year, the view of the rugged mountains, sunsets, Palm Trees, and of course the sandy beaches that line the Pacific are a glorious addition to my life. Out on the west coast, I often feel like the world is at my fingertips. Big Cities and beaches, what more could I ask for?
Here's my dilema. I know what more I could ask for. Dogwood trees in full bloom. Indian summers. Noisy holidays. 4-wheeling through arcres of undeveloped land. Evenings spent watching deer run in pairs through open fields from the backporch of my uncle's farmhouse. Buttermilk pie. Family. BUT, if I went back to Missouri, I would long for the sound of the waves and the fair weather and the big cities with their cultural blends. Moving is not the answer. My problem is that I am now a compilation of all of these places. I am in love with San Diego. And Dallas, Texas. And Neosho, Missouri. These places and the people in them have shaped me into who I am, and yet I don't fit perfectly into any of them anymore. Who have I become? I am a nomad without a home, without a permanant residence.
1 Peter 2:11, "Friends, this world is not your home, so don't make yourselves cozy in it." What a reminder! I am often homesick, but where is my ultimate home? Not here. Not even on this planet. As much as I long for the changing seasons of my youth, how much more do I long to spend eternity with the creator of the rain, snow, and sunshine. I long for Heaven.
Being a Christian means giving up the right to becoming comfortable here. As lonely as I often feel, I am anchored by my mission. I gave up my right to choose where to live a long time ago. My prayer is that God uses me as much as possible during my short stint on Earth. Because of that, I will be a nomad.
Along the way, I am thankful for the precious experiences held in each place He has given me to enjoy.