Some days my heart aches for home.
God called us to Chattanooga. This was the place God had been telling us about for so long. He carved the way for transition and peace . We pastor a church here in the city and feel a strong connection to this place. There is so much goodness to come. The things we dreamed about, God is bringing to pass. There is always a certain sacrifice though.
I told my husband last week I was “homesick.” He looked at me surprised and immediately started describing the lack of opportunity for us in our hometown. His lack of understanding lead to my complete conclusion that men are completely different than women when it comes to emotion. And it’s okay, even natural.
My heart aches for these people we left behind, not the place. I said “left behind” like we are now moving on without them, which is not true. But, oh, how it feels that way.
We moved just far enough away to make it difficult for frequent visits. No one is at fault for this. It is the distance, the road between us I contend with. I feel a certain ambivalence towards those miles. They are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever traveled – winding roads, over the mountains and around the vast waters. Then, they change into the lush flat farmland, familiar to my home, for miles upon miles to see. But, they keep us apart. They separate us into here and there. I wish I could pick them up and set them aside.
I miss “come over for dinner” and “stop by on your way home from work” phone calls.
I miss all the talk about absolutely nothing particular.
I miss my kids running to the door when they knock and the loving embraces that only a grandparent can give.
They are the people who care about all the details.
They are the ones who ask about it all. They listen to my rambling words and feel them.
There is an acceptance and love that I crave. They haven’t gone anywhere. They’re always there, just further away and harder to feel. If I’m busy I can ignore it, the longing for them. But, in quite moments it’s always there.
When days go on long, and I don’t know what they are doing, what they are feeling, I feel separate. I feel excluded. Not purposed by any means, just an unavoidable circumstance.
I have them. Not everyone does. I can visit. I have that. Not everyone can.
It’s okay that my heart aches a little sometimes but, I’m thankful all at the same time. I have a father that loves my children endlessly, a sister just like me, and an endearing lovely mother whom I can’t live without.
Love and complete acceptance are vital, whether it is from family or friends. I wish we could all show it to each other better. As a pastor’s wife, I hope I can show this family love to others, in the way I’ve learned it from these people.