“They say home is where the heart is, but my heart is wild and free…
So am I homeless, or am I just heartless?”
Being an adventurous spirit often leads to interesting dilemmas. Such as: Where am I supposed to call home? I spent less than 3 years in the home my family lives in now, I spent nearly more time at college than in that house, and the home I spent half of my life in is now 10 years removed.
It’s an odd feeling. Being uncertain of where home is supposed to be is a struggle.
This last week, I had the opportunity to visit Clarks Summit University, my alma mater. On the way up there I grew excited. I missed college, and I figured that spending a few days on campus would go a long way towards taking care of that problem. Over the course of the week, I realized I was wrong. Not because I didn’t enjoy my time. Not because I didn’t get to spend moments with friends. Rather, because the thing I missed most about college couldn’t be found there anymore. Although I’d missed the campus and the college environment, what I missed most was the people… And like me, they’d graduated and gone on to wherever God called them.
Sometimes, its easy to take a step back and be frustrated over these realizations. I’d certainly love to be back doing life in the same fashion that I was as a college student, but those days are gone, and they can’t be replicated. I’ll never be an 18 year old kid attempting to figure out life alongside of my friends.
Essentially, what this trip taught me was that college wasn’t my home. But home isn’t a location. Home isn’t a building, a place, or even a state (though Ohio is about as close as it could get in my mind). Home is anywhere we go, where people are there to love, encourage, and truly care for us. Sometimes is overwhelming to consider the fact that there isn’t necessarily a location that is “home,” but it is also incredibly comforting to consider that as long as I’m surrounded by people who love me, I’ll always have a home.