Where The Heart Is

They say home is where the heart is.

I haven't been home in about 6 months. 6 months is a long time for me. Even when I was away at college, I averaged only about 6-8 weeks between visits, but lately it seems that adult life just gets in the way of travel.

It is crazy how God works. I grew up in Issaquah, so I know what it looks like, I know what it feels like; so much so, that I can close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in the neighborhood I grew up in and smell it.

But there is something about flying in over the Eastside after being away so long that brings up many emotions. I found myself in tears looking out the window on the airplane while we made our descent into SeaTac over the lakes and the green, luscious trees that I haven't seen in so long. You never really realize the depth of the beauty here in the Pacific Northwest until you live in the flattest place in the country where there is very little real green and very brown water.

I call Issaquah, the PNW, my home, but whenever I am here, I find myself calling Houston home. I end up more confused than anything!! I think home is wherever God is calling you to be in the moment. I grew up here, all of my family is still here, I find comfort here. My heart will always be here. But right now, it is not my home. My home for now is Houston. And my heart is also there. For the first time in 6 years, I am staying put in one place for longer than 1 year, and I have planted roots, real roots. And right now, even though I sometimes think I'm a little crazy (haha) I am just doing my best to follow God's lead.

I miss Issaquah. I miss the PNW weather. I miss my friends and my family.

But I am happy. Happy walking by faith, not by sight, knowing that every step has already been put before me and I have nothing, absolutely nothing, to fear. Knowing that my circumstances, the place I live, and the people I spend time with cannot fulfill me. Only God can do that, and no matter what, my home is ultimately with Him. In Him is where I can rest.