Where's home?

You've probably read about me in BuzzFeed. Ok, sure, maybe not me personally. But they had a list a while back (actually a few lists) about these people called Third Culture Kids. Basically TCKs are people who grew up in a country that was not their parents' country of origin, because of the work said parents did. If you know much of anything about me - if you've read the beginning of this blog, even - you know that I grew up in a few different places because of my parents. So technically, I'm now an ATCK, or Adult Third Culture Kid. And one thing TCKs have in common is that we get a little anxious when asked where "home" is, or "where are you from?"

I have also grappled with anxiety about this question whenever it is asked. The standard things you'll hear people say about how they pick the place that makes the most sense for the conversational context they're in, or choose what to say based on how much they feel like revealing about themselves - I've done all those things. And I've struggled with the concept of 'home:' I've lamented that I've never had one, joked that 'home' is just the word I use for where my bed is that night, and generally done my best to deal with the transience.

But recently, I've been thinking some more about home. My strongest feelings of being at home have historically been when I feel most connected to God through the practices of my faith. I have often felt like I've come home for the first time in weeks during church services, or while I pray,  while reading the Bible, or doing something I feel God is leading me into. Recently, though, I've been feeling like I was at home in certain physical spaces, and it's been interesting to notice having that at home feeling in the actual room where I often pray. Tonight I was surprised to notice that I felt at home when I stepped into the elevators at work. I have come to associate that feeling of being at home with God's presence, and I didn't expect it in the hospital elevator. But who's to say he isn't there?

I am so incredibly grateful that I do have that sense, though. And how interesting that it comes to me through my faith. I wonder if Jewish diaspora feel the same way, or Muslim migrants.

Anyway, I just wanted to get started writing about it tonight to see the thoughts on "paper."

Goodnight!