Until today. At the end of the summer, Chase had us write a letter to ourselves to be mailed in three months. I got mine two days ago and couldn't let myself open it until today. I had a whole day off work and I wanted time to read, to think, to reminisce and absorb what I wrote to myself.
I wrote about so much I could share, but one thing really stood out to me. I talked about the feeling of homelessness that pervaded the summer. I was done at Belmont and gone were the days when my friends were, at most, right across campus. My apartment now belonged to someone else and I would be a visitor in Nashville, instead of a resident. Joplin was not my home and neither was Johnson City, TN, Knoxville, TN, or Roach, MO (thank God). I lived out of my suitcase pretty much all summer and slept in dorm rooms and hotel rooms. Most of my meals were eaten at various restaurants around town or in college cafeterias. I talked about how I was, in a sense, "finding" my adult self. The end of my academic career meant that I needed to choose a path. What did I want to do? I was no longer identified by my major, now all anyone cared about was whether or not I had a college degree and if I could do the job required. Real life was no longer past the threshold of graduation; it was right at my doorstep.
Now, three months after my CIY experience ended, I still have similar feelings. I am living at home again, working and trying to plan a wedding that is coming up quickly. Even though I am 'home,' I still feel a bit homeless. Much of my stuff is in storage and I no longer have a room to myself. I am trying to be patient and wait until Dustin and I know what city and state the next chapter of our lives will take us. I know for a fact that in two or three months, my stuff will yet again get packed up and moved across the country to a new home. I still don't know what I feel called to do career-wise, or even what will be available in the city to which we move. It is hard to feel settled in such a situation.
Even though many of the familiar feelings of homelessness and restlessness are still there, but I am not worried. I think deep down I know that God has big plans for both Dustin and me. I just have to trust that they will work out and I need to keep working hard and take life one step at a time. My three-month-ago self is so full of wisdom: I end my letter with "speak Lord, for your servant is listening, seeking, speaking, and trusting." I also remind myself, something that I need reminded of every day, to "keep sight of the fact that you are created beautifully and perfectly in God's image and have your place in God's kingdom. I can't wait to see where life takes you!" I am still waiting to see where life takes me, but I cannot miss what my life has for me right now. God has a place for me and my job now is to be patient and trust that it will come at the right time.