Coming Home

  I've always felt like there's a comfort in coming home. Because it's the familiar place of your youth or the place you've made a life for yourself. It's the place you choose to lay your head or spend your days. Home is simply, where the heart is.
  For the longest time I got this feeling of coming home as I came over the grade into Ventura. Now, that I live there, it's not the same. I guess because it's no longer a longing. It's now a real tangible thing and in many ways not what I expected. When I come over that same grade now I don't get that feeling. That feeling of home isn't present anymore. I don't get it at my parents home, my childhood home, either. I think (at my parents) there are a lot of reasons for that, but one would definitely have to be the deep unhappiness that is contained within those walls, not just mine, but as I've discovered everyone who lives in that house. You maybe asking why I'm writing all this, well it's because yesterday...I walked into home.
  I hadn't been to church since before Christmas. Every time I told myself I'd go I just came up with an excuse not to and of course, I was fine with it. Yesterday was my first time back in two months (and only because I went with Kristi and Rayne), it felt good to be back. Worship was great, the message was exactly what I needed to hear (even though it really wasn't what I wanted to hear) and it made my day that much better. I can only hope that my week is good as a result of my mind and soul being in a better place after the service.
  From the first time I walked into that church it's felt like home but because of my stubbornness I left it in search of something else...something more? There's a movie I love called "Center Stage" it's about ballet dancers...when one of them loses her way her teacher tells her (this is my interpretation) that she has to go "back to the bar" to find whatever she's looking for. Okay, not the bar where you drink, but the bar in a ballet studio. For me, that bar is home...it's go back home, to church...to God. To the place where you feel the most like yourself and the least alone and sad. I had forgotten that, but yesterday I was reminded that I don't need to do this by myself and if I start to feel like I'm slipping all I need to do is go home.

   Until Next Time,
    ~m