This is confusing to try to explain, but we are not living in the city that we call home. We are living in the city that I grew up in. We were given the opportunity to live in this beautiful city for six months, and we took it. It was has been a blessing and a huge answer to prayer. It has been so fun, and it has also been difficult.
We pretend we are tourists. This city was made for tourists. Every Sunday, we go gallivanting and exploring. Imagine being given a vacation that you can enjoy one day a week, spread out over six months! Incredible. It is such a gift. One that we didn’t see coming. One that we didn’t know we needed.
Then there is the hard part. We miss our home. We miss our friends. We miss our church. We miss our stores. We miss our weather.
It seems such a shame to be homesick in the midst of such goodness, but in the truest version of the story, it is there. It is not to be ignored. I am grateful for it. I am grateful that there is a place we call home. I’m grateful for the way that our loyalty to home makes us great tourists here.
Don’t worry. On most days, we are enjoying the best of the gift that has been given to us. We work, we play, and we learn new things. Then, randomly, the homesickness shows up, like a string is being pulled ever so gently, reminding us that our hearts are tethered to another place.