Home again, home again

I am home again from being home again.

With the help of one of my sisters I was surprised my mom and my other sister and her family with a visit! It was fun coming down the escalator in the airport and watching my mom's face go from not recognizing me, to confusion, to understanding, to happiness! I got to relive that experience with my 5 yr old niece and other sister the next morning. 

making cookies with my oldest niece 
and nephew (not pictured)
 while mom captures the memory

I have been wanting to visit my family for quite a while, but knew that I would be heading back to the States sometime early next fall, and had 'just' seen my mom when she visited last April. But I also knew that I had 2 toddler nieces at home who I had not yet met in person, housemates who would be making trips to the States themselves this year, and that I really wanted to see my family! 

When I knew my brother-in-law would be going to Guatemala again to lead mission trips in January, I called my sister up and asked if they had the childcare figured out for that time, since usually he is the one at home with their two girls. They were willing to have my help and I was more than willing to help and be with my family for two weeks. It was a great visit filled with playing everything from trains to Barbies; dressing up my nieces; talking in person with my sisters; getting man-sized hugs from my 16 yr old nephew who I also used to play trains with and dress up (but not as cutely); enjoying some American treats that are either rare here, like Root Beer and good tex-mex, or non-existent, like TastyKakes; and just being a part of my families daily lives again. 

our finished creations

Even some not-so-great highlights were nice, like getting the 24 hour stomach bug that went around the family. The sickness was awful, it was wonderful being taken care of by my family. Even my sweet toddler niece put her blankie on me when I told her I was feeling cold. 

It was a wonderful and very quick two-weeks.

After church on Sunday someone asked me if it felt weird coming back to Germany, or if it felt like I was coming home. It was a little bit of both. I shared with her that coming back to Germany felt like home, but my family is home to me too. At the same time, in neither situation was it the house that made me feel like I was coming/leaving home. In both cases being 'home' meant being with the people there. It meant being with my family and spending time with them, it meant coming home to my housemates and friends I missed seeing for two weeks, it will mean going home to Charlotte next fall and getting to see my friends and the 100s of babies they have collectively had since I have been gone (a small exaggeration, but not by much!).

Home means turning my face to God, knowing he is with me, and that as long as he is beside me, which is always, I am home. And while I am glad to have so many homes, I am thankful that my ultimate home is waiting for me.

For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.

Hebrews 13:14, NLT