Last weekend Kyle and I went on the leadership weekend to Southwind with leaders and staff from all over Florida. I talked to the AD in New Tampa on Thursday night and she invited us along, so Friday morning we fumbled around in the early morning looking for bags and sheets. A weekend later, we had new friends, phone numbers from people we weren’t related to, experience with a new dancing game that would make Erin Glasgow proud, a critical need for a shower and a new appreciation for daytime Florida humidity. I’m pretty sure everyone who met us asked why we would ever move away from North Carolina, and for the first time in several weeks, I got homesick. There are no mountains here, and no seasons. There is nowhere quite as familiar as Windy Gap or Wrightsville. I expected familiar faces at every meal, and didn’t find any, and that was hard. For the first time since we’ve been here I was surrounded by a large group, and for the first time I was lonely.
Last night I dreamt that we packed our bags and headed west. West, that is, to somewhere in Tennessee or Texas. In my dream, I wanted nothing more than to be back in Florida, in the sunshine, in this house, in my cubicle, with this piece of my new family. We spent most of the dream trying to hitch a flight back East.
By Sunday, there were a few familiar faces in the dining hall, and I had learned some names of people and churches and places we needed to go and things we needed to do, and I felt better. At some point over the weekend I realized that this feeling of not belonging was a lie, and that I am welcomed as a friend, a daughter, a wife… and that I am not alone.
I’m still sure that we’re in the right place for us and that coming here was always the plan. I think about Wilmington a lot. Wilmington, if you think of us, let us know. My phone has been mostly silent, and that’s okay, but I’d love to hear from you. I know my life isn’t the only one that God is doing things in, and I want know about the rest of them. I want to know about yours.
I love you.