I'm sitting at a Starbucks in Birmingham, Alabama in what is a pretty typical day for me over the last few weeks. I'm catching up on some computer work, drinking a White Chocolate Mocha, and waiting on an 11:30 lunch get-together with an old friend.
Yesterday I drove my Jeep on the Interstate from Gulfport to Birmingham. Think of driving a riding lawnmower really fast!
I spent last couple of nights with great friends...also typical of the last few weeks. I spent Friday night with Stik at his parents' home. Saturday night in Gulfport with David and Lindy before speaking at Bayou View Baptist Church yesterday, and last night with Charles and Paula.
Gulfport is always a mixed bag. Some bridges have been burned, some by my own hand and others that weren't. Yet I can definitely see that I'm blessed with great friends. I saw it in Gulfport, I saw it last night, and I've seen it the whole time I've been home.
At the same time I also have a home in Ukraine. And as crazy as this sounds...with all the turmoil that's going on there, this is the first time I'm taking a lot of personal things back with me...pictures and art and books...stuff I want around me in my "home".
You know, often times I stumble over the simple question, "where are you from?" I've lived several places; I have significant ties in several places, but I really don't have a "home". Living the way I have, especially the last several years makes me very cognizant of the fact that this world is not my home.
Yesterday I drove my Jeep on the Interstate from Gulfport to Birmingham. Think of driving a riding lawnmower really fast!
I spent last couple of nights with great friends...also typical of the last few weeks. I spent Friday night with Stik at his parents' home. Saturday night in Gulfport with David and Lindy before speaking at Bayou View Baptist Church yesterday, and last night with Charles and Paula.
Gulfport is always a mixed bag. Some bridges have been burned, some by my own hand and others that weren't. Yet I can definitely see that I'm blessed with great friends. I saw it in Gulfport, I saw it last night, and I've seen it the whole time I've been home.
At the same time I also have a home in Ukraine. And as crazy as this sounds...with all the turmoil that's going on there, this is the first time I'm taking a lot of personal things back with me...pictures and art and books...stuff I want around me in my "home".
You know, often times I stumble over the simple question, "where are you from?" I've lived several places; I have significant ties in several places, but I really don't have a "home". Living the way I have, especially the last several years makes me very cognizant of the fact that this world is not my home.
1 comment:
I think that thought first truly became real to me a few years ago when I was living in the prophet's chambers at my old church... and sort of feeling sorry for myself... and I realized that home wasn't here... that any place I loved or rested my head on this wonderful old earth was really just equivalent to a glorified hotel... a stop-over on my way Home... it gave a whole new meaning to the term "home-sick."
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