June 21, 2005
Person Who Misses Home
Portugal, Europe

To the person who misses home,

You've found me out. You've dug down deep, scooped out the recesses of my heart, hurled them to the dogs that are search engines, and found yourself here. LoredotUnskeweddotCom. Congratulations, you and a hundred other people. You came here looking for encouragement perhaps? A shoulder to cry on? A poem to commiserate with? And look what you've found -- only me. What a pitiful lot; I can't figure out what kept you here so long. I can't figure out what keeps me here so long.

Except perhaps it feels like home sometimes.

I remember being in a foreign place, like you are now, surrounded by foreign foods, foreign people, foreign language, foreign expectations. Thinking that surely everyone else must be doing it wrong, because the way I did it was surely right. Perched on my toadstool of ideals and raising my nose in every direction, thinking that it would keep me safe from getting my feet wet. I remember pressing my hot face to the cool cement bathroom floor, watching a puddle of tears form, and missing home so dreadfully I felt sicker than I already was. I remember sitting outside my classroom, feeling a breeze, and thinking it was the first time I'd felt one in months -- and what a foreign concept that was to this New Yorker. I remember holding my breath and swallowing cow tendons.

I remember the moment I missed home the most. It was the moment I spent sobbing all alone in a church building because I couldn't remember what loving Jesus felt like anymore. It was in that moment that I realized that it wasn't home I'd been missing at all; it wasn't family I craved, it wasn't rosemary lamb for Easter, or words spoken in my first language. It was the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life. The solidity of trust and faithfulness. The reality of truth and infallibility. The assurance of sovereignty and grace.

To the person who misses home -- He misses you too. And He doesn't want you to find your hope in a poem about missing home, or a support group who knows what you're feeling, or this website, He wants you to find home in Him. There are plenty of empty church buildings, or bathroom stalls, or taxi rides; go ahead, cry a little. Miss home. But don't miss the opportunity to see Him when He visits.

Sincerely,
Someone who misses home sometimes too