Home is where the heart is...

Monday was a day of frustration.

Woke up at 2 a.m. unable to sleep - didn't need to be up until 3:30.
Long line at security in the Birmingham airport.
No breakfast.

Little things, really. But then, the fun really started.


A heavy fog in Dallas prevented our plane from landing. Four hours later than needed/expected, I finally walk in to the DFW airport... mass chaos. I had to stand in a long line to find a new flight.

Wait, wait, wait.

I start getting emotional. I'm running on three hours of sleep, I'm sick, exhausted in all aspects, hungry, missing Aaron, wanting someone to talk to, and then my phone dies. I sit by a trash can, on the floor, plug-in my cell charger, and eat a Cinnabon (the second thing I'd eaten all day)... in tears.

I stand in line (for the third time), to get a boarding pass for a "guaranteed" flight. Mmhmm. "Your name is not on here. We can put you on stand-by, and if you don't get on then, you'll for sure be on the next flight." I even tried pulling the I'm-a-diabetic card, and it backfired.

But, my name was called, finally. I got on the 5:30 flight. Even got front row... it was center seat, between two elderly people each doing their own crossword, but I was going home.

The pilot announced we were descending into Amarillo. I looked out the window to at the sunset, combined with clouds that made it look like we were flying into heaven. I smiled, and thought to myself, "mmmmm..." and then my thought stopped.

I realized, that thought is typically followed by the word home.



Two things hit me at that moment.

I've been struggling with discontent in being in Texas, away from Aaron. I dreaded saying good-bye, coming back to school, being away from him for another two months. But, those five hours in the airport, my only thought was I-want-to-go-home. But, "home" has two places in my heart right now. Seeing the sunset, and the huge relief of being done with travel made me appreciate this home more. I felt God telling me to stop and enjoy this season, these people, this area.

I felt trapped in the airport. Alone, and trapped. It was just a transition (and a long one, at that). I freaked out. I got emotional. I knew I was going to leave eventually, I wasn't really trapped. I kept saying there was a reason for all of it, and looking back it was just a lesson. I'm in a slow transition in life right now. Slow is not in my vocabulary. I want to jump on the next plane of life.

Maybe I'm starting to disconnect, to try and transition. Maybe I'm wrong for feeling this way. Maybe it's normal. I don't know. I'm still learning. How do I stop looking forward to something so exciting, and enjoy this moment?

For the first time in three years, this area does not feel like home to me.
Home is where the heart is...