My Yellow Brick Road.

Sometimes I feel like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, dancing around aimlessly in a blue and white checkered dress and sparkly ruby red shoes with only one goal: to get Home. What Oz's golden girl never considered was how many stops she would make along the way, how many people she would meet, how many stories she would tell, and how many lessons she would learn.
My road isn't curly or swirly or made of yellow bricks. It's straight and narrow, but like Dorothy's, it's full of unexpected surprises, tragedies, and joy. It's a road chocked full with a zillion stories~ and it's a road I can walk with the sweet promise that one day it will lead me Home.
While I'm all for a little adventure, I also like to have a practical plan set in place. I'm a unique hybrid of a spontaneous creative type and a type-A goal-setter. Most of the time I try to roll with the flow, but the "no-blueprint" aspect of my faith is starting to weigh heavily on my heart. I am supposed to be the girl with the plan. I don't like that my plans always seem to flop. I don't feel like home is anywhere in particular. I just am tired of being the odd girl out! It's not just that I don't exactly know where I'm going to live or what I'm going to be doing. Sometimes I get the feeling that I don't belong. Anywhere.
I wonder sometimes if maybe my friends feel that way too... but are good at hiding it. Like me. Like... maybe sometimes they know what it feels like to be the odd girl/boy out. Maybe they've just moved to a new place and suddenly their weird accent turns heads like never before. It could be that they're failing a class and are drowning in trying to be good enough. It could be that they'd rather draw than practice a foul shot. It could be they'd rather be listened to than contantly ignored. It could be that they're tired of not being made to feel beautiful. It could be that they hate the sport they are playing, but could never say anything for fear of rejection. It could be that they never let on when something is wrong, yet a battle is raging in their heart. It could be that they have a soft sweet spirit, but too many people know them as having a hard heart, so they can't show it. It could be that they're tired of sitting by themselves at lunch and going seemingly unnoticed.
I crave individuality. God loves the individual quirks He's created me with. We're meant to be different from the rest of the world, but sometimes different can still make for some lonely times.
At this part of my journey with God, following Him means trusting Him when I don't know the next step in front of me. It means trusting Him when my friends have college tuition and a home for next year, and I'm still searching. It means trusting Him when an opportunity I thought would be amazing, falls through. It means trusting Him when I see friendships that are God-centered and beautiful, and I'm still waiting. It means trusting Him when I feel like giving up.
Sometimes, it feels distictively as if I don't belong, as if no matter where I am, I can't feel at home. Jesus has a lot to say to me in those moments. I should anticipate feeling out of place. Hebrews 11:13 says this about men and women who had already died and gone to Heaven... "They admitted that they were strangers and aliens on earth."
That verse makes me think of airports. I am literally just passing through. I'm not Home yet. Even the best time I have on this earth won't compare to being home, when I get to see my Jesus face to face.
In His eyes, I belong. I've always belonged. When I'm going through seasons when I'd give anything to be a fly on the wall instead of the weird drama geek who tries to hard, I picture His big arms wrapping around me and reminding me that He has a plan for me on this winding road. He's walking every single step of it with me.
I love adventure, but I love stability too. I can find both in Christ. I have no idea what this year holds. I don't know where I'll be living. I don't know whom I'll meet. More than ever, I'm learning to depend on Him for all I need. It's OKAY if home isn't one place in particular. Home is where my heart is, and my heart is all His. Walking with Jesus feels like home. Dorothy was right. There's no place quite like it.