Ever since I moved back home and have been commuting to Santa Clara, I’ve had this odd feeling of not belonging anywhere. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even have a place to live–I just crash at different people’s houses. I’m always gone from home, so my family feels like I’m MIA, but I’m graduated and working, so I’m in a different phase of life and can’t spend as much time with my friends at school.
It’s left me feeling like all my relationships are more casual, because I’m never around long enough to really invest myself. I’m disconnected from my friends and the community I’ve built in Santa Clara, but also my family, the people who have known and loved me all my life. I feel like a drifter, a gypsy, a wanderer who sleeps on the couch and lives out of her car. (Slight exaggeration, but not far from the truth.)
My relationships feel like they are on hold with the rest of my life in this time of transition.
My one constant is, of course, the Lord.
There’s something about being disconnected from everyone around you that makes you come face to face with the one who transcends proximity, time, and circumstance.
My most precious moments lately have been the ones where I’m spilling my heart out to God for forty minutes on the road as I’m driving, laying it all on the line with the one who knows everything, the one I don’t have to play catch up with, the one who gets me. What I long for in the people around me, I am finding in His perfect friendship. Even though everything around me is changing, home is where He is, and I’m never alone.