Today is one of those days where my heart feels so disoriented and tears are pooling up behind my eyes, waiting for the moment I finally allow them to spill. What causes this? Some days it’s just because I’m tired. Some days it’s because my heart is longing for more and I just can’t seem to find contentment in the here and now. But today it seems this heartache is just because I don’t want to leave home.
I don’t want to leave home.
There, I said it.
I leave for camp once again (which I still haven’t shared about, whoops) this Saturday and this exciting event basically signifies the end of my summer. And I just don’t want to leave.
As cheesy as it sounds, John Mayer’s “Stop This Train” has never pierced my heart in the way it has lately. Soon I will only be a visitor in my parent’s home. The summers of childhood have come and gone (wonderfully I must admit) and although I know I will always be welcomed and love spending time in my house, I am growing to realize that this season of life is rapidly catching up with me. I’m watching my friends graduate from college and head out into “grown up world” and in this moment, I just want to go back to the days of Disney Princesses, big hairbows and belting songs while swing higher and higher and higher. In this moment I just want life to pause and let me savor this moment. These moments of home.
But even today, even in the moments I desperately wish for what I don’t have, what I can’t have. I have hope. I know the LORD is good and that this is a season every single person encounters. And I know, without a doubt, that I truly am going to be okay. Better than okay, actually. I’m going to thrive. I’m going to be stretched and learn more about my strengths and weaknesses. I’m going to find passions, have dreams come and go, say yes to adventure, and ultimately have a life that drips with the goodness and glory of God’s Grace. This life is coming fast, and even when I’m tired or scared, I am expectant.
This is going to be good.
“Sometimes I think it’s better to suffer bitter unhappiness and to fight and to scream out, and even to suffer that terrible pain, than to just be… safe. At least she knows she’s living.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. -Isaiah 55:12
“And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn’t it?
It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.
I want to repeat one word for you:
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn’t it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don’t worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.”
― Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts: Light, God, and Beauty on the Open Road
(The tears start spilling as I read the last quote. So rich and true and good.)