Home is Where the Heart Is

It has been two weeks since my last post and two weeks since I have returned to the US. I am once again at a loss for what to say. There's no need to recap all that I have learned because I essentially wrote that as it came, but I need to have a proper conclusion to this chapter of my story. And with that I would like to talk about this thing called 'home.' I will not be the first to speak on or write about this, but more for my own sake, I need to flush out my own conclusions about it.

My thoughts on home changed quite drastically as the year progressed. In the early months of my stay in Ireland, I thought of home as the physical place of my family’s house in San Diego, California. Along with this thought came people and objects of familiarity seemingly only present at ‘home.’

As time went on, I felt I had found a home in Ireland and so my idea of what home was shifted. It was no longer a single place or even a collection of familiar things. Home was somewhere I belonged and could be myself. I was reminded of my director in theatre once saying to the cast “welcome home,” and we all felt it was true. Similarly in Ireland, I had a home away from home… But why did it have to be “away from home.” Wasn’t it possible to have more than one home? After all, home is not a single place. It is not fixed. It can change.

This idea that my home had changed was a bit unsettling because I did not want to deny my first home nor have to think about leaving home for, well, home. Then I realized that neither place is home. In a way they are both a home, and since parts of my heart are in both places, they become important to me, but home is not here. Home is in heaven with Christ Jesus. That is where I ultimately belong and where I will be eternally safe. My heart is with Jesus and He sits at the right hand of God in heaven. Until the day comes when I join him, I am a foreigner in this land (John 17:13-17, 1 Peter 2:11, Philippians 3:20). I may live and dwell here, but this is not home and in many ways, I am glad it isn’t. In my father’s house, I will get to see all of my brothers and sisters, of whom I have met a few in Ireland. In my father’s house, there will be no fear of loss or pain. It will be all home is meant to be without flaw or inadequacy. Home is where the heart is and my heart is with Christ in heaven.

Taste of Ireland: Unlike the US, Ireland is small. It is has vast expanses of beauty and yet has a small-town feel in much of the country. 

P.S. If you would like to find out what's next for me, you can click here.