Homeless

In a homily a few weeks ago, our campus minister spoke about "homecoming." The definition of "home" is not always what people think. Although when you search the word many definitions do appear, (some including the building surrounding you) the one that sticks out to me is "the place in which one's domestic affections are held." A house is just something with walls and rooms, but home hits much deeper than that. 

If I'm being honest, I have felt a bit "homeless" the past couple of years. When my mom and brother moved out of the only house I've lived in for more than three years and in with my grandparents, I didn't have a room anymore. My personality type is not one to start confrontation. Although I will stand up and say when something is bothering me, I would rather see those I love happy and healthy. So instead of whining and complaining about not having a room, I was happy to move in with my grandparents and excited to see a new chapter in our lives start unfolding. Aside from that, I knew that it would not be long before I would be back at Louisiana Tech University with friends who have become family.

However, I still could not shake the feeling of homelessness. It has been very difficult to get past the fact that I no longer have a room in a house somewhere that is just mine. When I am at my grandparents, I share a bed with my mom or stay on an air mattress with a TV in the living room. When I am at school, I share a room two beautiful young ladies. When I am at my dad's, I stay in a guest room. I think that's why I have been so eager this year to graduate. I have lost sight of what graduation really means and started focusing on the fact that I can finally have my own place. 

Whenever I talk to my mom about these feelings, she says something along the lines of "But home is wherever I am." Although this is true, I have lost sight of that as well. I have been too focused on my self-pity and wallowing that I forgot what home really means. I have forgotten that change of scenery does not have to mean change of heart.

After hearing the homily a couple of weeks ago, I realized how crazy I have been. I'm the furthest thing from homeless. I don't have a bedroom with my name on it; so what? There are people who have much less than I do in regards to shelter. I am beyond blessed. It doesn't matter where I am, I still have a roof over me and a warm place to rest my head. On top of that, I have so many people who love me. My home extends across many miles and many smiling faces.

Home is where my best friend and her newborn son are.

Home is where my church and church family are.

Home is where I can bake cookies and make someone smile.

Home is somewhere in Arkansas with a girl who holds me accountable.

Home is where people make me laugh so hard my stomach aches.

Home is where ten people pile on top of a couch because one person had a bad day.

Home is where my Doctor Who loving, always encouraging, and beautiful roommate is.

Home is where my dad's homemade baked ziti is. 

Home is where there are pictures hanging on the wall of family.

Home is where the homemade biscuits and tomato gravy are.

Home is where my brother's sketches line the walls.

Home is where I can't think straight because the family is too loud. 

Home is where my mom is.

Being home doesn't mean a place. Being home means forgetting all of the things that worry me; all of the things that have given me grief or pain over the past few months. Being home means I am surrounded by people who love me. Sometimes it means being driven insane when my baby brother can't stop tapping the table. Sometimes it means spending the day watching TV. Sometimes home is sitting in my mom's office catching up with old friends. Home does not mean a house. Call me cliche, but home really is where the heart is.

This is my home:

What a Difference a Day Makes

Some days are harder than others. Some days, when it rains, it pours. And the electricity goes out. And you bump into the counter trying to get a candle. And when you find the candle, the wick is gone. So you sit alone in the dark. And a week later you've still got a bruise. All you want to do is stay in bed.

But one day you wake up and the sun is shining. You realize that the bruise is finally gone. Your new candle smells an awful lot like Christmas. And your best friend is laughing across the room so hard she can't breathe. She's trying to hold the drink she just swallowed down. It has been a long time since you laughed so hard it made your stomach hurt.

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There is a phenomenal difference between the rainy days and the sunny ones. Sometimes, we have to stop and realize that just because it's raining doesn't mean something beautiful can't come of it. A good friend told me recently that if I continue to let the little things become big things, I won't ever be able to move on with my life. I won't ever be able to pick myself up out of the rain and make it to the days where the sun is shining. He told me I can continue to let the little things fester and bother me, I can let them go, or I can make something beautiful out of them. 

I have always hated the rain and usually everyone close to me is made well aware of this. It's just wet and cold. It doesn't bring the joy that the sunshine does. It doesn't even compare to the white powdery snow that falls in the mountains where we used to live. It floods the streets and makes things dangerous. It ruins good hair days. It messes up clothes. It's just plain gross. And thunder and lightning terrify me most times. 

This past summer, I worked at a camp in Arkansas and it rained every day straight for almost two weeks. Growing up in the mountains we never had much use for rainboots. We never really got to play in the rain because the snow was so much better and came so much more consistently; so I never learned to splash in puddles. But this summer I did. I spent a solid half hour running through puddles. I got my jeans soaking wet and my socks were squishy. But I was so relieved. I was so happy. I felt like a child. I let go of control and enjoyed myself.

Since this past quarter started, I have allowed myself to get more consumed with the things that I have no control over. I have come to realize that this coming year will bring with it a lot of change that I have not been able to mentally ready myself for. Between my graduation, my brother's graduation, applications to grad school, family moving; I haven't exactly had a good grip on how to handle things. Instead of looking for the beauty in the midst of these changes, I have allowed myself to get overwhelmed. I have allowed myself months to sulk and complain. Whenever I try to fill out an application to grad school or look for a job, I get anxiety like I've never felt before. I have cried more and drank more coffee this quarter than I have in my entire life. 

But yesterday I woke up and the sun was shining. Finals were over. Quarter break had begun. Yesterday, I realized that not all change is bad. I looked out at the fields and saw how beautiful and green everything was. All because of a little bit of rain.

Change, like rain, doesn't have to be a bad thing. Sometimes, change is good. Change is necessary to mature and grow. Yes, change is hard. No, life won't always be sunshine and rainbows. But with God on your side, change is always possible. With God on your side, you can always turn the rainy days into something beautiful. You can take the change and run with it. Allow God to fulfill His plan and His purpose for your life. That will never happen if you do not allow the change to happen as well.

I'm slowly learning that it's okay to be upset about the rain some days. On those days when it really does mess up your beautiful, new hairstyle. On the days the game you've been looking forward to all week gets canceled. It's acceptable to be a little upset. But it is not okay to let that frustration boil over and ruin a perfectly good day. Don't allow the rain to keep you from doing the things that make you happy. Instead of staying in bed all day to sulk and watch Netflix, put on your boots and take advantage of the puddles. Instead of being upset about a sunless day, paint a picture and include the things that make you happy. Crank up your favorite music. Bake some cookies. Read a good book. 

Rain is inevitable. So is change. These lessons I am trying so hard to teach myself will not come easily. It is not easy to get out of my comfort zone. It is not easy to know that big changes are coming very soon. It is difficult to cling to the one God who can make the change possible. The one who can give me strength. The one with the plan. But I'm learning. Slowly, but surely I am learning. I am learning to splash in the puddles. I am learning to smile through the change. I am learning that God's plan for my life is just that. His plan; not mine. And His plan includes change. One day I will look back on this period of my life and understand. It may not all make sense right now, but one day it will. One day I will look around at the green fields of my life and realize that the rain of these days was necessary. Difficult, but necessary.

I want to leave you with these two verses:

The first, most people who know me will recognize. It is my favorite verse; the one I live by. The verse that I sometimes let slide to the back burner. This verse says "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper and not harm you; plans of a hope and future." Jeremiah 29:11 God has a plan. Sit back and allow it to unfold.

The second verse, a friend recently reminded me of. It is a reminder of where our strength should come from. A reminder that no matter what, Christ is our shield in those times we are at war with ourselves. Isaiah 40:29-31 says He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. On those days when you can't seem to find it in yourself, find your strength in Him. Put on your rainboots and dance in the rain.