For a while now I’ve made my home wherever I am. It takes me a couple of days at the most to refer to wherever we are sleeping at that given moment as home. If we’re out and about at ministry I’ll say “time to go home” referring to the bunk beds were sleeping in that month, or the mattresses on the floor we are calling home for those couple of days, or our tents pitched outside. I’m quick to call wherever I’m sleeping home.
And then it came time to leave the field. To go “home.” Like home home. Home to career and stability. Home to “what’s next?” Home to that place you belong. Home to some sense of permanency.
And I did come home. Home to Pawleys Island where I have lived the vast majority of my life. Home to my family and to familiar places and faces. Home to a church family who has supported me and loved me so well through this whole process. And while Pawleys will always hold a deep sense of home. I find myself missing so many other homes.
Long before the World Race I found a home in La Ermita, Honduras. I have a whole little community there: my Honduran family. Every single time I leave the airport and start the drive towards Talanga I breathe deep and think “I’m home.”
Then the Lord led me to the wildest and best adventure with Him that happened to have a training camp in Gainesville GA. And there I found a community of people who wanted me to know the Father, who championed me and prayed for me. People who came alongside me in this journey and support me still. Now I find that Gainesville feels deeply like home.
Z squad was at my side as I found a home in Peru and West Africa. Peru and its beautiful people and now dear friends serving the Lord in their communities. Togo and Ghana with their wonderfully hospitable people with broad and bright smiles.
And now G squad. They have a sense of home about them. They have been an encouraging landing spot for many on their race. And I know when I see them at debrief at the end of May I will breathe easy and feel at home.
A couple of months back while we were in Wisconsin someone asked me where I lived. And for some reason I kind of panicked, and I was like “man I don’t even know, I don’t have a home.”
And I immediately corrected that statement.
Because what I meant was, I don’t have a house or a permanent address or a location for my future career. (Because at that particular moment I was apparently feeling the weight of those things.)
I quickly took it back and said, “well I don’t have a house, but actually I have lots of homes.”
Because there are SO many places I feel welcome. There are so many people including my family, the sweetest college friends, AIM leadership, squadmates and more who have extended home to me. And yes in the sense of a place to live, but more than that a place to BE, a place to feel welcome.
And I think that’s what home really is. It’s the people who love you, who welcome you, who challenge you and encourage you.
That’s what the Father does. And He is our Refuge, our Home.
I’m thankful for the many, many places I can call home because of the many, many people who love me so well.
And while I still may not know my permanent address, I know the Lord holds me close. I know He will provide. I know He is sufficient.
I know wherever I physically go, He is my Refuge. He is my Home.
With so much love,
Kayla
