It’s strange to come home when you divide your time between places. 

Yesterday, I returned home from the city. Falling in love with Chicago, I feel a strange compartmentalization in my heart that I’m trying to work through and process. You see, I’m in love with the Northwoods, too, which is a completely different everything: isolation, quiet, crickets, birds, bears, trees, the stars, my church, lakes, family. Contrast that with: friends, the noise, campus, vibrancy, concrete, mazes of streets and buses and trains. I refuse to use to term “my other life,” because it is all, by God’ grace, part of mine.

Somehow, I fit in well in both places. Somehow, the complexity of my personality has adapted to both. Somehow, I can love both. I am still myself; yet, I do feel an odd sense of division. Can I be all me in both places? Are certain parts of my personality more visible when I’m on my own in the city versus living at home with my family? How have I changed since going away? Was it for better or for worse? And how can I hang on to what I have remembered?

The last thing I want to do is slough off all my experiences and relationships and lessons learned now that I have returned home for the summer. I have a feeling I need to pray more about this. Spirit, help me to live out of the truths I know and continue to love well.

Just because I came back doesn’t mean that I cease encouraging, praying, reading the Word, studying, planning, or communicating with those from Chicago. Nothing is wasted. Nothing was for naught.

There is much to learn and do this summer as well. Even though it’s a little (sarcasm) quieter up here, there is much life to live and family to love and work to do for the Kingdom. Jesus hasn’t changed, either.

So, as I spend some days getting back to life up here and starting jobs and slowing down, I will be in prayer and walking by His strength. Father, keep my eyes fixated on you despite my change in location. The Rock won’t move.