We are just coming off a two-week vacation. A two-week vacation that included celebrating a third birthday, an 8-day trip to San Francisco, celebrating a fifth anniversary, and an extra long weekend at home. Usually family vacations exhaust me. But not this one. It was amazing. It was beautiful. It was a dream.
We did not want to come home.
And yet, as the trip part of our vacation ended, there was a part of each one of us that was ready to be "home." We were ready to be in our own house, with our own beds, and our own shower (with amazing water pressure). We were ready to see our neighbors, to cook in our fully stocked kitchen, to go to church.
It has always been a dream of mine to live in the Bay area. Since working there for two summers during my college years, I have always dreamed of going back. And as we walked the amazing city of San Francisco, we talked about whether or not we could see ourselves living there one day. And it was amazing ... as much as I loved every minute of my time there ... I just couldn't imagine picking up everything we have and making that home.
But as we came home ... when we arrived to 35 degrees and a slushy mix of rain and sleet ... we were longing to be back in sunny California. We found ourselves instantly depressed, and once again began dreaming about living in the city that stole a part of our hearts. As our long weekend went on, we began a somewhat serious conversation of what it might look like to find a job and move there. How much money would we have to make? Was it feasible?
We miss the sunshine. We miss the walkability. We miss the fresh fruit & vegetables. We miss the corner grocery store and the local crepe restaurant. We miss the diversity. We miss the playground. We miss the Golden Gate Bridge. We miss the streetcars, the buses, the trolleys. We even (slightly) miss having to do our laundry at the laundromat two blocks down.
And then ... then Sunday came. And we went to church. And as I walked into the building, and saw the familiar faces, I was in awe of the community that God has blessed us with. As we worshiped in this place that we have quickly grown to love, I felt God's tug at my heart saying "This is your home. I have something planned for you. I have called you here. Stay the course."
It seems only fitting that we find ourselves wrestling with these questions during this Lenten season of discernment. We aren't sure what God is up to in our little family. We know we are destined for greatness. We know God has gifted each one of us with incredible talents, passions, and abilities. We know God has promised us opportunities to use those ... in the place that we find ourselves in ... not the one we long to be.