There is no home on earth for me.

I stumbled across this picture yesterday while I was packing and nearly started crying. 

(But I'm always crying, so what's new!)

For eight years, this place was home. 

I entered this house as a third grader, left as an 11th grader. 

I've been back once, but the gates were locked and the walls rebuilt.

I'm used to moving--every 3 or 4 years our family would move. 

It wasn't always to a new place, but it was always a transition nonetheless. 

The biggest move of my life was on June 28, 2005.

Next Saturday, not quite 9 years later, I'm moving again.

Not across the ocean or even across the country--just across town.

I've moved several times since 2005, so why does this time seem so difficult?

A couple of years ago I wrote a story for my Dad about a little girl who was uprooted from her home and forced to re-plant her roots somewhere else. 

(If you want a copy let me know!)

My question is this: will there come a time when after being transplanted so many times, the root, so torn, so broken, so hurt, can no longer grow ?

All my life, I have watched friends come and go. 

Sometimes they were the ones leaving, sometimes it was me.

Sometimes the leaving was for a year, sometimes for good.

For the last four months, I have watched my roommates and dear friends, one by one, head out the door.

First there were five, then four, then three, we are down to two, and next week there will be just one. Me.

All of a sudden, my world is stripped of all familiarity and comfort.

I had built a home out of my friends. 

Now, my home seems taken from me.

I feel abandoned,

alone,

confused,

and always restless...

like I never really belong anywhere.

Then I turn to Psalm 62. 

My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be shaken.
 On God my salvation and my glory rest;
The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God.
 Trust in Him at all times, O people;
Pour out your heart before Him;
God is a refuge for us. Selah.

(verses 5-8)

Daily, I cling to these Truths.

How I long for my heavenly home where all will be at rest.

My mom sent me this quote yesterday and it fits perfectly. The author is unknown. 

"You will never be completely at home again because part of your heart will always be elsewhere.  That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place."

I didn't write this for you to feel sorry for me or to seem ultra dramatic and melancholy. I wrote it because I know there are many people out there who need to cling to the truths in Psalm 62 just as much as I do.

How thankful I am for the One who never changes. 

He is ever-faithful, always constant, always true. 

He is by my side; He will see me through.

In HIM I find my home.