Finding Home

It was an adventure week. Two particularly popular C.S Lewis quotes come to mind:

"If we find ourselves with a desire nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world."

"Make your choice, adventurous Stranger; strike the bell and bide the danger, or wonder till it drives you mad, what would have followed if you had."

In traveling I have learned a few things. Two of the greatest things I have learned: home is a relative word, and love is an underused word.

For me, home is a place of refuge. This has come in many forms for me. For many high school spring breaks home was a tent in a church court yard in south Texas. For a couple summers home was a secluded camp in the mountains of Alaska. For a while home was Vegas, a cold marble apartment in Nepal, and an orphanage of 67 sisters in India. 

In Iowa, the best part of home was the kitchen table. It is where were friends would gather to become family. Age no longer mattered, I could sit and play games with my sister and her friends. My brother and his football friends would come, and it was okay for me to talk to them, only in the kitchen though, never in the hallways at school. My friends would come over for late night "study" sessions and laugh with my mom. Mom would lecture us all on the importance of school, working hard and retaining our morals, and we were all more than okay with it. My parents would no longer be Mr. and Mrs. Pezley, rather Jerry and Kris. All food was free game, they would no longer ask before opening the fridge door.

Home: a refuge. To find home, I learned, I have to be vulnerable. Acceptance, community and family comes at a risky exchange: comfortable walls crumbling to allow others to see all we are. 

The adventure and risk is worth it. The adventure may make you sick, you may get lost and become afraid, you may meet people who are unfriendly to you, you may find a thousand reasons to never desire leaving your home town. But along the way, you will find other things. 

In India I learned the impact of human touch. I have never been afraid of kissing and holding children, no matter how dirty and foul smelling. One beautiful little sister in India had head sores, very contagious. She was embarrassed. One day she was having another sister clean her sores, when she saw me she instantly tried to cover them with a scarf. When I tried to uncover them, she looked down, buried her head in her lap and covered herself with her hands, she was ashamed. I forcefully removed her hands, leaned down, kissed one of the sores and said, "I love you." My heart broke. I loved her.

The adventure is risky to the heart. You soon fall in love with people and places. Your pallet begins to enjoy the flavor. Your senses begin to welcome the strange smells, bringing you peace instead of fear. Your body relaxes in the company of others. So why not tell them you love them? 

I was ingrained with the mentality you love your family, a few friends, and your future spouse, otherwise to say you love something is abuse of the word. There is nothing more adventurous then falling in love with others, bridging the gap from people to family.

I love Jesus, friends, both male and female, coffee, biking, hiking, mountains, lightening bugs, baby animals, and picking flowers along the road side. I love running through life with others. I love pillows and adventuring. I love quotes, reading, and my water bottle. I do not love every situation I find myself in, but I love knowing God is with me in every situation.

We risk loosing a part of ourselves everyday as we push the covers back, planting our feet on the floor. We risk finding new things we love. Slowly, home becomes less about location, building or shelter. The more I travel, the more I realize we truly are not home. My soul is never fully satisfied. I may find peace and rest, yet my yearning for the Throne Room becomes greater with each adventure.