Home

You'd think that after living in Chicago for 8 years that you could easily call it home...and I do. I feel at home- safe, loved, cherished, appreciated, and all the comforts of knowing I am in the place I am supposed to be. But when I say the word 'home' my heart automatically goes to where I grew up and I am getting on a plane in 2 days to head there. I am really nervous...

I haven't been home since last August when my mom and I packed up 17 years of my families life. I spent 2 days watching strangers buy off pieces of memories just so we could move out. I remember moments of suddenly becoming so overwhelmed that I just sat down and cried. And other moments where people surrounded us and took such amazing care of us as we packed up our lives. I haven't been home since then. And to be honest I am nervous that I am going to cry...a lot. How do I go home and not drive to Abbey Road? How do I go to support my mom and not really just want to curl up and cry? How do I remain strong in the midst of what still feels like such a nightmare?

An old seaman once said, "In fierce storms we must do one thing, for there is only one way to survive: we must put the ship in a certain position and keep her there." This fierce storm is taking a toll on me. I truly am tired and long for a day when there might be a break in the clouds. But in the event that this storm continues- I pray I am in the right position to weather it.