HOME

Pastor Larry Wade, of Urbana Yoke Parish, also writes a blog.   Although it might be fun to try, we never know what the other person is writing and we never try to write on the same subject.  Until now.  Last week Pastor Larry wrote on moving and where home is.  His October 30th blog can be found here:  http://larry-fromthepastorsdesk.blogspot.com/

I really liked the blog and sent him an email.  The following is an expanded version of the email he received.

HOME AND THE NEXT HOME AND THE NEXT HOME

I know how Pastor Larry feels.  I grew up in town.  Moved to a farm.  A FARM --with smells and strange hours and moving hogs that did not want to cooperate.  We were home.  Then we moved to another state and a few hours away from my parents and family.  We unpacked, in a small town in Michigan, where I knew no one.  This meant going to a new church and finding out which pew I could sit in.  Moving meant putting our son in a school where I did not know the teachers.  I trusted them to teach my little boy.  It was hard to find a sitter who could not only watch our kids but also my mother-in-law.  We seldom went out but we were home.

One door closed and another one opened.  Off we went to Wabash, Indiana.  We were home.

We lived one year in Wabash and then moved to North Manchester.  I love reading and being on the Friends of the Library board was a perfect fit.  I led a Brownie Troop for a few years and then turned the troop over to the next level because the next level involved actually sleeping in a tent.  Not for me!!  I found the local Methodist Church and became active.  I helped start a Kid’s Club and discovered I like to teach Sunday School.  A bowling team allowed me to join even though I was only a fair bowler.  During this time I was working for Bill, working auctions, making many trips to Purdue, and being the little lady of the house. We were home. 

An opportunity presented itself and we moved to a farm outside of North Manchester.  The move to the farm was a whole new level of learning.  I helped pull calves, put ear tags in, and helped repair a fence in the middle of the night using the lights from the tractor and flashlights.  That is one adventure that was not going to be repeated and a new fence was put in.  We were home.  Or were we? 

As much as we loved the old farm house, after 22 years I was ready for some conveniences like having my bedroom and bathroom on the same floor and an attached garage.  To be honest, the only move that I did not want to make was to where we live now.  I wanted to move!  You know, like to Cody, Wyoming or at least to the hills and hollows of southern Indiana.  I miss them.  Or to a beach.  Or to the mountains.  But that was not to be.  So I began house hunting and our lives changed again.  Bill retired and that meant I was fired.  Yup, we packed up and moved to a house in town.  We are home. 

What I have discovered through all these moves is that home is where your heart is.  Home is where you feel safe and loved.  Home is where you can pray and cry and not feel like your prayers have to be silent and your tears hidden.  Home can be a family of six (my family growing up), a family of four (our home when the kids were growing up), a family that includes adult children and grandchildren (our home now) or a family of one (a home most of us do not choose).

I am a strange person, because I like to move.  Why?  Each move came with the adventure of discovery.  Each move came with challenges.  Each move gave me the opportunity to find a new passion.

I believe the adventure of moving out of your comfort zone (See note below.) should be experienced by everyone.  Moving forces a person to reach out to strangers so they become friends.  Moving means you learn to join groups that have already been formed and finding your place within that group.  Moving means discovering life stories and learning from others.  

Moving means God will use you in a new way.  And He did.  I heard a voice say, “Is that the church you want to go to?”  And my answer was no.  Bill had been invited to give Urbana Yoke Parish a try.  We did.  And from the first time we walked in the door, I knew something.  Home is walking into a church and having people smile at you and give you hugs.  I was home!

And an email reply to Pastor Larry became this week’s blog.

Have a blessed week.

Mary

Note:  Moving out of your comfort zone does not mean you have to move around like we did.  It might mean you join a book club or start a coffee group or go to a different worship time or volunteer at the senior citizen center or help with those Brownie Scouts.  Moving out of your comfort zone simply means you try something new.