My pant legs are soaked. I just went for a little tromp in the nearly knee-high snow, blanketing my brother’s backyard. But I’m relaxed, patiently waiting for my thick jeans to dry in front of Kevin’s fireplace while I sip on a warm latte.
This is the 3rd time I’ve been back in the Great White north since departing my homeland on January 17, 2017 for the beautiful Sydney, Australia. It’s now been a full 2 years that I’ve been “gone,” and during my 26 day visit back, I noticed an interesting change…
While visiting friends, family and hugging the necks of beloved Church members, I realized there was a shift in the way people spoke of me (and their Instagram captions, haha!). “This is my aussie friend…” “There’s a Hillsong girl here!” “…weekend with my Australian!”
Suddenly (and yet, not so suddenly) I’m no longer a native returning to her home, I’m an outsider coming for a visit. Oi!
And hey, it makes sense! I’ve been away for over 2 years. Everything has shifted. I have new, amazing friends, a new routine, new Church, etc., etc… Of course family is still family, and thankfully my Canadian friendship circles always feel like they simply pick up where we left off – what a blessing! – but flying across the globe and spending time reconnecting with people and places where I spent the majority of my life always leaves me pensive.
Now more than ever before, I feel all at once homeless and at home in two major geographical locations.
I’m not keen on the idea of “homeless” though, so let’s go with vagabond (a person having no settled home… yet). I’m in transition. It’s a season. It’s a longer season than I anticipated, but it’s a season nonetheless, and actually such a good one.
A friend reminded me that I simply haven’t “dropped anchor” yet, but that my sails are full of wind. I love nautical pictures, and it felt like this one was a significant spiritual reminder that despite not being “settled,” I am on my way, and my trajectory is Jesus. This is another thing! I have absolutely no idea what awaits me on the other side of 3rd year at Hillsong College, but I have been reminded that as long as he is my focus, my goal, my “true north,” that my course will be set at a good pace, towards a good place. And (classic Jesus) as I have begun to turn my eyes on him, he has begun to peel back the layers of what is in store.
It’s now 30 degrees outside, and I’m nearly sweating just sitting at the dining room table. I made it through the 30 hour plus trek across the globe without a hiccup or any funny stories to tell. Arriving with a full soul, but apprehensive spirit and heart, I have gladly poured my emotions into the newest addition to my lovely college house in Bella Vista: an old upright piano.
Because of various conversations and Jesus and me moments, I am now scared of this year.
Not in the sense that I want you to come pat me on the head and say, “don’t worry, it’s okay little girl.” I’m “scared” or “apprehensive” because I believe this to be a significant year. God is so incredibly good, and has good things in store for me, but I think I am also suddenly very aware of, and anticipating an intense move of God in my life. It’s going to take me fighting some battles and conquering fear. With this apprehension and new awareness is a need to crawl into the arms of Jesus. I sense him comforting, but also beckoning me forward, gently, but firmly. It’s almost like we’re hiking up a hill, and it’s getting steeper by the second, so he holds ever tightly. I have personally felt like he’s comforting and warning me with words similar to this…
“…I know you don’t know what’s coming after third year. The mystery is part of the adventure. Plus, if you knew all that was ahead, you’d be even more nervous than you are now!”
Oooooookay, Jesus! Ha! Please, do your thing, like only you can! I’ll just be over here slightly terrified, and yet burning with excitement at what you are about to do! I feel like it’s going to be painful and beautiful, as various shifts, changes and periods of growth and pruning are performed on this vagabond’s heart. Oh, and the vagabond season? It’s a season. And whether that “home” and “settled” satisfaction comes only in heaven, or in pieces here on earth, I’m still keen for the journey, when the trajectory is set to you.
