Home

Home // həʊm //  noun: "a place where something flourishes..."

Today marks one whole year since moving to this large town. It's a pretty big milestone, significant mostly because I'm not planning to leave yet. It also happens to be my seven year England anniversary and during that time I've moved house nine times, signed six different job contracts and dwelled alongside at least twenty-one different housemates.

I'm not alone in this incredibly extensive address list, but part of a generation who struggle to stay in one place for too long. Which means for me, like for many, home has been transient. Home has been temporary. Home has been a collection of different places - Durham, South London, Rwanda - with a beautiful, ever-changing cluster of human beings.

Yet this means my natural association is that development comes only with movement. Each time I've moved house, I've learnt something new; changed job; transitioned into a different stage of life. Along the way, there have been many moments and messages to friends with another plea to pray for the right place to live, or for wisdom on the next steps to take.

So many of us are so good at living out of suitcases. Always running after the next big thing/job/relationship. We're forever moving, always mobile, a little bit afraid of too much stability, lest our lives become boring or dull.

Ever since I arrived in this now not-so-new place, there's been a feeling that this home is a lot more permanent than any I've had before. And, not surprisingly, that realisation hasn't always been easy to come to terms with. Most weeks, there have been moments where wanting to run away seems a lot more easy than trying to settle. With friends in London - where a big piece of my heart still dwells - there's often been the urge to hop on a train every time things have gone wrong, rather than remaining to sort it out instead.

The past twelve months have been a wrestling match between my adventurous heart and my (much smaller, weaker) sensible, settling head.

Recently, I wrote about the significance of community in the suburbs, and in doing so I realised how my new dwelling place has slowly become my home; how the time for being transient is not for now.

Just over a year ago, I sat in my grandparents' garden and pondered what it meant to move, again. These words from then are a pretty good summary:

"I look forward to the day I can write from a new bedroom and feel at home. But for now, this new place and this new job is at the forefront of my mind. Yes, it's scary - but it's thrilling, exhilarating and beautiful. And exactly the right thing."

I'm so grateful that I took the leap. I'm so grateful that God has revealed more of His character to me through the many challenges - and many joys - of finding a more permanent, less transient, home. One that is thrilling, exhilarating and beautiful.

I never realised how difficult it would be to make myself stay in one place. I never realised how challenging, hard and scary permanence could feel. But now, as I sit in my candle-lit, hygge-friendly living room, I'm content with the idea of being in this place for a while - and more than that, I'm excited for what's ahead.

Some of us are called to live out of suitcases for a little longer than others. Yet, even when that passion is within us, it's not always the only option.

I'm learning that radical living isn't just running away to the other side of the world, or giving up a job, or doing something that makes other people say "woah!". Sometimes, it's the very ordinary things that can feel the most challenging. One place isn't necessarily boring, or dull. In contrast, there are rich opportunities for exploring, adventure, and growth.

Home: "a place where something flourishes."