Tuesday, December 29, 2009


Home. After four months traveling throughout the Dominican Republic and the east coast of the United States, I have finally found myself at the doorstep of my very own birth state. I cannot help but roll the name of this lovely state over my tongue and revel in the familiarity. Familiarity was something unknown to me while in the Dominican Republic. Even things that had been well-known lost their familiarity with the coloring of another language. I, now, return home to most definitely find that things have changed while I have been experiencing another culture. Yet, this does not change the fact that I have a strange fondness for this place called ‘home.’

Perhaps, this fondness is found in the childhood memories or in the familiar curve of the land. Maybe it has something to do with dwelling in the same house as my family yet again. I am not certain. I just know that my heart is gladdened by the road signs that proclaim such familiar places. Although I consider this my home of homes, I found this same concept of home in the Dominican Republic and even in hotel rooms. One of my friends stated, “Home is where I sleep.” I definitely think she has a point. If we did not need to sleep, the idea of a house or home might become obsolete. Yet, the feeling of being ‘at home’ shall never become obsolete. That feeling comes simply from a familiarity with one’s surroundings.

This past year, I have found a feeling of ‘at home’ in many places. I count my college a temporary home. I find that my childhood home is yet my home of homes. Now, I also have a home in the city of Jarabocoa in the Dominican Republic. Of course, I have spent half of my childhood at one friend’s or another’s house. Between all of these homes, I found a home in cabins, hotel rooms, and in the houses of extended family members. I must mention that my true home cannot be found anywhere on earth and that I am always subliminally seeking this real home of being forever with God.

People say that
home is where the heart is
. I do not agree with this statement unless it means that my heart is seeking after my home with God. Yet, this statement is just much too simple. I, for one, know that my heart is extremely fickle. When I was in the Dominican Republic, my heart was often focused on the United States sometimes with my friends at school and sometimes with my family. One could say that obviously the Dominican Republic was not my home. Then, I should probably not mention how my heart yearns after the Dominican Republic right now. To be honest, I do not believe that any person’s heart is capable of settling down to one “home.” It is much too fickle and this is why I pass the responsibility of caring for my heart to God.

I am home. I am intimately acquainted with this culture. The rules and regulations of the roads are strictly enforced and the driving is noticeably much more boring. Suddenly, I have the ability to eavesdrop on any conversation that I wish to in any public place! On the down side, it is much more difficult to have a private conversation with someone in the midst of friends because we all speak the same language. I am home to a place that has seasons opposed to a place that has hot and a little cooler than hot. It is a wonder how while in another country one gains a whole new affinity for one’s own national anthem. The first time I saw the Star - Spangled Banner gracefully billowing on a flag pole, I was riveted.
God bless my homes.