People keep asking me, “What does it feel like to be home?” I’ve tried to explain it in more ways than one but I think the picture that comes to mind is that of being awoken from a deep sleep, jumbling awake and once awake poking everything to see if it is real. The transition is happening all too fast and home feels like everything BUT home.
Another image I get in mind is of this scene of Jeremy Renner in The Hurt Locker, upon his return from Afghanistan. (If you haven’t seen the movie DO SO). In this scene Jeremy Renner is restless with the monotony of civilian life, reality and is suffering from slight culture shock (I felt the same way on my first trip to Walmart).
I by no means disabled bombs in Australia, but I honestly felt like I was a part of a bigger purpose there with all that I was involved with. Of course that can happen here at home with time, but right now I just feel overwhelmed walking down the aisles of Walmart and seeing a 24 pack of Capri Sun be sold for $1.28! And in a way I feel like I am walking around aimlessly trying to find my legs or the aisle with the fabric softener.
Many things have changed around this arid city, and in most part I am glad, because it would really be devastating to return and see the Lowe’s grocery store still be the same gaudy color that it always was, but its also hard to see that Lumpy’s Burgers disappeared (it’s a lot better than it sounds) along with Rico’s Tacos! I am glad for ten dollar movies instead of eighteen dollar movies, but I hate that I have to witness the people closest to me go through some of their hardest seasons yet. My best friend with a weakened health condition, a homeless friend, and situations with close family members. It sure has been a great welcome. But I think the worst part has been the giant dose of reality; from health cover, to eye insurance to dental appointments to university applications to the possibility of a new church… I know that its all a season and in the right time these broken overwhelming pieces (both physical, and emotional) will all find healing in God.
Right now though, I have to take a deep breath and take it all one day at a time. I will learn and grow from this season, and I pray to God with all that I am that bitterness does not become a companion. I will learn to give myself grace when I expect more of myself, and when I try to adjust into life at 100 mph. I will learn of the places here that have the possibility of wonder and awe… Albuquerque is good in that sense, it’s a home for the explorer or the gold miner, because you have to dig and rub on the dirt to find the good in it, and I will learn to love almost every piece of it; and maybe even discover good coffee shops.
I will re-learn the stop lights (as I almost got killed TWICE) and I will remember what it feels to love the long thunder filled rainy nights. This season is a time to re-learn, give grace, and not be afraid to let things grow. It’s a season to just sit and wait and believe for God’s best to unfold, even when it feels like I am rowing on muddy water that’s stagnant. It’s a time to love on the people on my life and meet them where they are at.
It’s a time of being.