Going Home

August 4, 2011

Tonight’s my last night in New Zealand.  In a lot of ways I feel like I’ve left already.  I try not to focus on the fact that I’m leaving this country that I love, but on the fact that I’m going home to my family and friends that I love.

When I opened up my Bible tonight I went to Mark.  I’ve been reading in Mark every other night or so for the last couple of weeks.  I read in the Message about Jesus.  It said, “He left there and returned to his hometown.”

Crazy.

I’m leaving here and returning to my hometown.  

Jesus impressed everyone.  But then they were upset that he was so good because they thought he should just be a carpenter.  Jesus didn’t do much there because they were stubborn.  They put him into the box that they thought he belonged in.

I hope this doesn’t happen to me when I return to my hometown.  I want to impress people, but I don’t want them to stick me in a box.  I don’t want them to say, “She’s always been this so now she can’t possibly be this.”  

I can’t believe this dream is over.  I dreamed for months and months of coming to New Zealand.  I wanted it so badly.  And for the first two or three months here I still pinched myself to see if it was true.  And now I’m leaving.  

Honestly, I’m so grateful for the experience.  I’m so grateful that I came here and for the amazing experiences and people!  My life wouldn’t be the same without this.  Most of all I think I’m grateful that such a huge, impossible-seeming dream came true.  And now it’s over.  

It’s a little sad.  I haven’t let myself think about it too much.  I don’t want to be sad. I guess what I need is another dream.  A bigger dream.  I got such a high out of realizing this dream that it’s like I am an addict and I need another dream and I need this new dream to come true too.

Every now and then my life seems surreal.  I remember when I went to college.  The first few years of college felt surreal.  I think it was because I had thought about college for so long.  I’d worked toward it and dreamed about it.  So when it actually happened it didn’t seem like it was really happening.  

That’s how my time in New Zealand has felt from time to time.  Now it feels surreal that it’s all coming to an end.  In some ways I’m more than ready.  And in others I’m so sad.  I don’t want it to be over.  

Now I have to face the harsh reality of returning to my hometown.  Going home is always a good thing, but it’s not always good.  I’ve left and come home so many times now that I think I’m beginning to learn this.  

I guess I’m not going home with rose-colored glasses on.  My life won’t be perfect.  It will just be normal.  I reckon, that for a while, that will be okay.  But before I know it I’ll probably be ready to leave again.  Maybe it’s a similar experience to Jesus’ return home.  Definitely not on the same scale, but maybe a similar experience.  Eventually he left again too and he went to other villages and taught.  As much as I love home, I can’t stay there forever.  It’s sad, but it seems to be a part of my life.  As much as I want to stay and be in one spot among my family, friends, mountains, familiar scenery.  I can’t do it.  I just can’t.  I want to go home, but I can’t stay there forever.  I seem doomed to come home and leave again.  This is my life and I’m going to accept it for what it is.  Even though it hurts.  It’s like this desire to leave has been built into me.  And a desire to come home has also been built into me.  It’s pretty strange, but I’m not alone in this.  There are other people like me. . . they just aren’t at home.