On Home and Moving

I’ve had some deep discussions with my mom lately about rooting myself up again and heading off to graduate school. On Wednesday she told me, “It’s so easy for you to pick up and start over.”
(I gave a wrinkled face to this over the phone. My cousin said something similar to me at Christmas, and it surprised me because I have never seen myself as the independent one of the cousins.)
My mom paused for a second and continued, “I know it’s not easy for you, but you do it. It’s your faith that allows you to.”

Her statement has been running through my head. Yes, I suppose it is my faith.

I know that this world, no where on it, is truly my Home. I am always looking forward to the place I truly belong.
While I am here, I have made many attachments. I miss the city in which I grew up, and I know I will miss Baylor when I leave. Yet neither one is truly Home, and neither will be the place I end up for graduate school and beyond. I am simply passing through, serving my King wherever He leads me.

Last night at a recruitment dinner, one of the graduate students – trying to make conversation – asked us all what we did outside of class. I told him it was pretty much church. Trying to be accommodating, he said, “Yeah, you can do that here,” and proceeded to list off a few Christian groups on campus.
Later on, I laughed. I should have responded with a smile and, “Yes, that’s the beauty of worshiping the Creator God. You can do it anywhere.”

Everywhere I go has reminders that the best is yet to come. Lampposts scream to me, “Aslan is on the move!”

Possible graduate school lamppost.

And so I roam, taking pictures of lampposts, only slightly afraid of uprooting again, moving ever closer to my true Home.

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