Home?

Home is central to life. Having a physical thing to say, "hey this is mine" seems like a basic right. It's comforting, provides normalcy and a place to cook and store your clothing. Home is good. It should be safe. It should be a place of routine.

And then sometimes it isn't.

Home is where the cacti are.

Sometimes home is couch hopping. Sharing a bed. Renting a futon. Sometimes home changes more than the weather on a typical Chicago day. It's not normal, there's no routine, and it feels unsafe.

This has been my post-grad reality.

I'd tried to make this super temporary nomadic season as a time of gratitude, of giving thanks to the wonderful friends who are storing my clothes, opening their homes, and providing me an interim family as I'm waiting to move into my summer apartment. And believe me when I say I'm thankful. I truly have seen an incredible support system rise around me and I am humbled by people' love. Selfishly, however, I want to curl up on a bed that isn't mine and complain about how life is too hard, I don't have a home right now and all leave this city.

And I think this is a consistent representation of my prayer life.

When life fails to meet my expectations or when I'm too emotionally exhausted, I complain to everyone. My parents (God has blessed you with crazy amounts of patiences so S/O to you for being awesome), my friends, myself, my kids at work, in my journal, and to God. Grumbling. Lamenting. Bemoaning. Doing everything in my power to focus on the negative or unpleasant circumstance. Yet it's in the seasons with unsteady routines, uncomfortable circumstances, and lack of control over my reality that God continually, faithfully, consistently shows up. Over and over. I forget. God is faithful. I forget. God is faithful. I forget. God is faithful.

I seem to forget quite continuously these days. My expectations of post-grad life are not being met. Walking across the stage didn't suddenly make my anxieties flutter away. And God is still good. I just forget this. There's two tensions at work here: "I'll fake it til I make it" and "Woe is me". Neither one allows the present emotions to be experienced in a healthy way nor do they make space for true gratitude. The mindset I'd like to replace those with is more like a prayer, saying "God, you've been faithful and you continue to be faithful. I don't trust you right now and you will always be good." This expresses my human tendency to not trust what I can't see or don't understand as well as the forever truth that God is faithful. He's been faithful since the creation of the world and there is not one single promise He's broken yet my flesh doubts Him again and again. I'm thankful that my limitations and doubts do not reflect the true nature of God.

I'm thankful He is my home.