Welcome To The World Baby!!

Last night I ended up taking a friend to the hospital at 2 am because we suspected some appendicitis action (she doesn't --false alarm). We ended up staying there until 6 in the morning before we finally got to leave. 

While in the waiting room, we sat across a young couple who looked no older than 23. The man looked nervous and seemed frightened out of his mind. Yet, unlike all the other patients waiting in the room, the woman had an unnatural glow around her.  And they kept looking at each other in excitement, whispering, "we're going to have a baby!" 

Watching them, in the moment, it was like I was able to watch something that is not part of this world. Like waking up to a day filled with snow when snow was never in the forecast. It was a happiness, far more powerful than just a snow day yet just as common if not more. It was seeing a miracle in action. 

Hello baby. Welcome to the world.

Thank you God

Thank you God

For sleepovers

And giggling

And temporary tattoos

Thank you God

For hiking with friends

And eating PB&J sandwiches

And adventures

Thank you God

For seeing waterfalls

And overlooks that show your creations

And for beautiful days

Thank you God

For reading children's books in the kid's section at the library

And naps that leave you refreshed

And walks under the stars

Thank you God

For Monopoly games

And late night Steak n Shake visits

And being in the presence of friends

Thank you God

For Wal-mart trips

And bubble-wrap

And for awesome songs to listen to in the car

Thank you God

For loving me

And trusting me with your great plans

Even if right now I'm so confused and feel alone

Thank you God

For being there next to me

And never leaving nor forsaking me

And never getting angry even when I admit to not liking you at the moment.

I'm just scared, that's all

Home

(I meant to put this up a few weeks ago but then my computer freaked out on me)

Home

[hohm]

noun

a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.

I live in a house.

We moved there almost two years ago.

It lies in a picture-perfect subdivision with children always playing outside and an overbearing homeowners association.

It's a spacious, four bedroom house with 2.5 bathrooms, a gorgeous kitchen and a lot of square footage.

I have my own room painted neon green and a blue ceiling with glow-in-the-dark stars placed in their constellations. A hammock lies next to the window and I sleep in it whenever I come back from school. The window leads to the outside and a small roof juts out from it so I can climb out and see the stars on beautiful nights.

Yet, I still cannot think of that place as home.

It is just a house.

No matter how hard I try, that house is not home. Let’s not get me wrong, I absolutely love my family but it’s just not where my heart belongs.

For the longest time, home was my church, mainly my youth group. I remember being squished in the back of a church van during an eight-hour trip and realizing that this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I truly loved being in the presence of my Jesus family. Summer nights playing on the volleyball courts felt like home.

Then I came to college. College was where, somehow, strangers became family and I finally felt like I was accepted without having to follow society’s standards. Starlite retreats and mud football never felt so much like home.

This summer I went to camp. Where, having no one else to be around, we were always around each other. Where staring at shooting stars and fishing became a way of life. And during those peaceful nights, I felt like I was at home.

These past two weeks, I’ve gone from camp, to my house, to my church home, to college.

And I’ve never felt so confused as to where home is.

Where does my heart belong?

Maybe these are simply glimpses of a better place.

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here. --Brooke Fraser "C.S. Lewis Song"