“Or maybe we’ll make a home somewhere inside of ourselves, to carry it with us wherever we go.” – Tris, Insurgent
While reading Insurgent on my flight from DC to Little Rock I found this quote & I love it. At the risk of sounding outrageously corny this quote “spoke to me”.
“Home” is Camden County, Georgia. Where every street holds a memory of my childhood. Where school hallways echo with the sounds of the years I spent there. Where I created paper chains to count down the days until my dads return from his deployment. Where the ball fields that I spent countless days begrudgingly watching my brother play baseball are, days that I would love to have back. The same ball field where I developed my own love for every aspect of the game. Where friends were family, and Southeast Community Church was a huge part of our lives. Where 13 priceless years were spent. A place that will forever hold a large piece of my heart.
“Home” is La Plata, Maryland. Where the most important people in my world live – my mom, my dad, and my brother, sister-in-law, and niece/nephew (for the time being, until their move to Florida), and Missy, of course. Where I’ve spent many holidays and summer weeks, time that all passed far too quickly. Where the air is humid, the grass is green. Where there’s something to do & history to see no matter what direction you drive. A place that’s near and dear to me, because those dear to me have chosen to call it home.
“Home” is Russellville, Arkansas. Where childhood road trips were made from GA to AR to celebrate Thanksgiving & Christmas with the entire family. Where I moved to in 9th grade. Where I met Matthew – my best friend, my fiancé, and my future. Where I’ve become a high school alumni, and where I’m 1 year from adding college alumni to the list. Where I’m lucky enough to live in a beautiful town, full of God’s handy work – made visible through every sunrise peaking over the mountain top, every quiet roar of water over rocks that have been smoothed throughout the years, every birds song, turkeys call, and coyotes howl all singing praises to our Creator, daily. And a place that I plan to call home for many years and many milestones to come.
How can one place truly be “home” when each place is home to their own unique, sweet memories & even sweeter friendly faces?
So like Tris said, maybe home isn’t a place… Maybe it’s more of a state of mind. Where you hold all the dearest memories, the people you’ve met, and the lessons you’ve learned… enabling you to be content wherever life takes you, knowing your sense of “home” doesn’t belong to a place, but instead in each of those little pieces of your heart that, together, you can
carry with you and make a “home” wherever you go.