working out what life and call and prayer and silence are all about

Coming home

I’ve lived in a lot of different places by now. I moved every year through college and seminary, I’ve owned two homes and rented several in between. I’ve traveled to Europe, Asia, the Caribbean, the Middle East and all over the US, and I’ve lived in 6 different states. I’ve loved it all – discovering new cultures, exploring new terrain, meeting new people. And because I’m an organizing geek, I’ve loved finding ways to arrange my stuff in each new locale.

But with traveling and moving comes some stress. There are new customs to decipher, procedures to follow, information that’s needed but can’t be found. It’s hard to start your day when you can’t find the basic necessities of life: towels, soap, toilet paper. And it simply takes a while to get used to a new place. So even as I seek out new adventures, I long for the comforts of home.

One thing has always helped me find the balance between adventure and safety. Wherever I’ve traveled, wherever I’ve moved, I never feel right until I’ve found a place to run. When I’m running, I’m able to explore new places in a way that most tourists don’t. I’m up early and out the door as the shopkeepers begin their daily chores and the locals are walking their dogs. I learn which bars were the rowdiest the night before and which parts of town get overlooked by other travelers.
But even as I get to experience something new on each run, I’m also returning to the safety of what I know: the way my knees creak during my warmup, the satisfaction of deep breaths, the rhythm of my stride that remains the same, no matter where I am.
When I’m running, wherever I’m running, I am home.

On Sunday I ran in that fabled city of runners, Austin. It was in the mid-90’s by the time I got to Lady Bird Lake in the middle of town. But I knew I needed this run, to remind myself of who I am, and so I took off into the humidity. I ran under the shade of trees that line the lake. And I partook of life-giving water from fountains generously located along the trail. I was entertained by the hundreds of kayakers and SUPers learning their new skills, and by the families with kids in various stages of grumpiness and irritability. And as I was buoyed by the crowd of runners braving the heat, I realized that once again, I had come home.

I still can’t find the box that has my belts and scarves, and I don’t know how we’re going to get to the decorations in the garage come Christmastime, and who knows how long it will take to get my car and self registered and licensed in the state of Texas. But none of that really matters. Because I found a place to run.

20140701-114619-42379995.jpg

Comments on: "Coming home" (7)

  1. Kristy Messler said:

    I love this! I’m glad you’re home.

  2. It’s so interesting how going on foot reveals so much more about a place than driving. I always try to walk around any new city I’m in. It’s a more intimate experience and the only way to tell if a place has the character that could make it “home.” I hope you find great places to run in Austin!

    • I agree – the hidden character of a place can’t be found through a tour bus window! Austin’s a bit of a drive from TLU, but worth every minute of it, and is part of the larger place of Southwest Texas I now call home!

  3. Carol and Allen said:

    Lovely,PK. We all have those things that bring us home. I am spending the summer on the front porch and reading books. Allen is HOME when he is on his moto. Aren’t we lucky to know what it is that brings us home?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Tag Cloud

revtiffanythomas

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

Mihee Kim-Kort

Pastor. Mother. Student. Writer. Itinerant. Hopemonger.

Dr. Nichole M. Flores

Cultivating Conversations for Academy, Church & Society

treasures of tarot

Serenity, Courage, Wisdom

Living Contemplatively

Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

austin vivid photography

heather schramm-lifestyle photographer

Connections

Stories of Ministry within the Texas-Louisiana Gulf Coast Synod, ELCA

True Story

Part of me wants to spare you the details. Part of me wants to tell you everything.

The Accidental Missionary

A regular guy tryin' to figure it out

%d bloggers like this: