Home Is Wherever I'm With You

Today marked my first (and second and third and fourth) public meltdown due to the thought of leaving home. I knew this day would come, and luckily I was at church and surrounded by my church family.

I never knew just how hard it would be to leave home initially. I thought I would be ready for it somehow. One thing I failed to truly think about is what home actually is. 

My physical home is the house I have lived in from the day I was born. It is the room that I have made a sort of sanctuary. It is the kitchen where I sat on the floor playing with my new puppy in Kindergarten. It is the family room that housed countless family nights. It is the basement that I have been afraid to be alone in from the time I was 2. It is the place that I am always looking forward to when I have been on vacation. 

But there is more than my physical home...a home that is made up of people.

My home is my family. My brothers who have driven me crazy and annoyed me to no end, but somehow have made me the most proud sister in the world. My brothers who I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. My parents who are the most genuine people I have ever met. My parents who taught me about the love, mercy, and grace of Jesus Christ. My father who is such a true picture of who God has called us to be and who has taught me to love people freely. My father who passed on his love for taking the long way home, because it makes life more interesting. My mother who is my absolute best friend and sidekick. My mother who puts her children and her husband above her daily and who is the true definition of selfless. My family who has seen me at my worst, but loves me in spite of it. My family who has given me a sense of humor that allows me to laugh at myself and to not take things too serious.

My home is my church. It is the families who I have known since I was a baby and the families who are new to my life. It is the women who I talk to every morning before I go to Sunday School. It is the youth group who I have seen built up, torn apart, and built right back up again. It is the church body who has astonished me by their work for the Kingdom and their heart for the Father. It is Ron Smith who brings joy to my life every Sunday and understands my obsession with goats. It is the worship that I get to enter into with other believers and humble myself before each week. 

My home has been made up of so much more than a physical building. It has gone far beyond the walls of my suburban house. It is because of all that my home is made up of, that makes it seem absolutely impossible to leave. 

But that is what I need to do. It is what I am called to do. 

Home is comfortable.


I am not called to be comfortable. 


I am about to enter in to one of the most difficult transitions of my (almost) 19 years of living. And I am ready.

I am ready to expand my home.