Where is home?

Tonight I was telling a lady at my church about the beautiful state I grew up in. Washington was where I lived for ten very formative years of my life. And even though I have been displaced from Washington residency-wise for two years, I still call it home. 

Where are you from? 

Washington. I miss it so much. It is so beautiful there. 

But lately, when people ask me where is home? I'm not sure how to respond. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. My childhood was characterized by country roads, cold beaches, and county fairs. But the saying goes that home is where the heart is. 

So where is home for me? 

Tonight, home is China. I miss China more than words can say. I want to go back so desperately. My thoughts are torn between the "next step" and my time in China. Although I was only there for six weeks, teaching for a total of four, I left a piece of my heart in that dry and thirsty land. Right now, China is not on my radar for permanent living. I don't think anywhere will ever be again. 

But I want to go back. If even only just for a little while. If someone handed me a plane ticket and a teaching job tomorrow, you can bet your boots that I would be on my way. 

But life doesn't work that way. One can't get by on enthusiasm and passion alone, no matter how much you have. 

When I return to China, I want it to be completely of God. I want to see His clear leading. 

I'm a "get my ducks all in a row before I try anything" kind of person. On Friday morning, I had lots of ducks. Not very organized ducks, but they were getting there. 

This weekend, I lost all my ducks. Poof. Gone. Vanished into thin air. My plans were broken down and I am once again left with empty hands. 

You'd really think I would have learned by now. Silly human. 

But my empty hands were not alone. My heart was being filled with new-to-me concepts and opportunities. 

Reminding me, once again, that life was never, ever meant to be cookie cutter. And Christianity is not about a prescribed pathway that leads in a certain way to a certain place. It's about running after God wherever He leads us. Whether that be in the urban cities of America, the desolate lands of the 10/40 window, or something in-between. Sometimes it's an odd mix of all of the above. 

So, the next time someone asks me Where is home? I will smile. I will weave tales of my beloved Washington. Comment on how I am learning to love South Carolina. And remember that my home is actually where my heart is: with the people God will lead me to throughout my lifetime. Whether they be in China, India, Morocco, or anywhere else in the world. 

God is moving. And I am running headlong after Him.