Home

My nephew is born today. Such a sweet gift from life. With the loss of my grandmother only two weeks ago, I feel as if life is trying so hard to compensate for the pain. But it's never enough is it? The same joy that fills my heart also overwhelms me with great desperation. I want to go home. I'm beginning to feel like I'm going crazy here. I still can't shake the loneliness and isolation. Friends don't come fast, neither do friendly faces. It's been almost a year, and still, I feel like everything about this place is going against me. It doesn't matter anymore though. I won't find comfort here. I know it. I can stop complaining. Now I'm just propelling myself forward and building an escape back to my most imperfect, complicated, messy, chaotic, crazy world. Why do I miss it? It gave me such great purpose. I knew and know myself here. When I'm there, I stop feeling so lost and so worthless. Right now, here, I feel like such a waste of space. I don't know myself here. I want to go back to home. Home where my hands have a job to do. Home where my purpose is clear. Home where God needs me the most. I need home as much as home needs me.