One Week Till It's Here

In a week I am back in AZ. I neglect to say "home" because I have decided that Arizona is no longer home. For someplace to be "home", one must live there more than one month a year, and since in 2010 I will only be in Arizona 4 days (and not even 4 full days) I regret to say, I am now no longer my own official resident of America.

For a long time I have stolen a good theory from Pumba the Warthog, from the Lion King, "Home is where your rump rests", and while this theory may work for Pumba, I am sorry to say that I now disagree. After lots of time and prayer I have realized home is Jesus, and Jesus is in me, so therefore home, for me, can only be found within myself. I carry my home with me, and while I am entrusting it to other people, Ruth, Vicky, Ashley, Kyleigh, Stevie, Matt, and others, home is found a bit in each of them as well. So home is no longer where I rest, home is where I am at peace, which can only be found when Jesus and I are on the same page.

I have not been excited to go back to Arizona, I kinda feel that my three week trip is kinda like overstaying a welcome. I would rather spend one day each with everyone I love and entrust myself to (except ashley axup, who I plan to steal as a stow-away in my bag and bring back to Leicester with me), and then I'll come back here, to the rain and darkness and cold and Matt. But I imagine that when I get there, to the desert, I will fall back into line with my natural way and enjoy the time I have, even if that means having to eat LOADS of Mexican food.

(and just so we're all clear, Mexican food is one thing that I really wish England had a LOT more of)

Missions Occur Where Ever the Lost People Are

I'm from Gilbert, Arizona. It's a small little farm town on the outskirts of Phoenix, one of the largest cities and one of the fastest growing in the US. Growing up in Gilbert, and especially being a teenager, provided me with the ability to have something to do in the city, while still having a very safe home. Not that Phoenix is all that dangerous anyway, but Gilbert is the kinda place where you can accidentally leave your doors open and nothing will get stolen.

Last week a murder occurred in Gilbert, Arizona. One of the safest places I can think of in the world. It's one of those: I go running at 3AM when I'm home and can't sleep, safe places. The biggest thing that happens to us is when tractors make traffic slow or kids toilet paper houses when it rains.

It's not that it freaks me out that my hometown isn't safe. If anything, Gilbert is more of a vacation residence for me, but I get the feeling that so many other people's lives were shaken up by the events. People in Gilbert base a lot of life purpose in possessions and things, in the idea of money making the world go round and living to be the "leave it to Beaver" family. Family's have cars and mopeds and 4-wheelers and boats, houses with more rooms than people and garages with more cars than licensed drivers. This is a place where "how it looks" is far more important than anything else.

I often think that the people who live to share their walks with Jesus with people in Gilbert are so much stronger than I. How do you advertise Christ to people who have EVERYTHING and whatever they don't have they could buy? Please send a quick prayer up for all the missionaries of Gilbert. They have their work cut out for them.

Is Home Really Where My Rump Rests?

This year has been an odd year, and due to the intense situations ebbing and flowing through my senior year I have been disinclined to truly enjoy where I am. So it was a great surprise to me when, for the first time in 7 months, I actually started enjoying my desert. My spring break was actually full of fun little surprises like that.

It hit me while I was taking the 60 home. I remembered a Dutch phrase I learned last January. Translated, it's something like "if the sun sets red, tomorrow will be a good day". Haha... well, that's not so hard for Phoenix. With a climate not allowing for many clouds or moisture, our sunrises and sunsets have more colors in a single day than most people ever see. So I guess that means a very high percentage of days should have good "tomorrow"s.

While I glided along the silent freeway going somewhere around 70mph with the windows down, the cool desert spring air hit with a slight wet scent which probably meant that somewhere a sprinkler had broken. The mountains shone red in front of me and I heavily considered continuing until I ran out of gas, which in my little car could have been well into the night. And suddenly it hit me. I'm not going to live here. I know, I don't really live in Gilbert anymore as is, but after August I really won't live there. I don't even know exactly when I'd be coming back. A few months? A year? more? I don't want to stay. I'm not wishing I could be in Gilbert or Tucson instead, it just seems so odd to think that my parents house will never be my home anymore. Even though I haven't spent more than 3 consecutive weeks at home in the past 4 years I've always referred to it as my home. It's the place where I send my phone and credit bills, it's the place where I run to when I get tired of real life. But after August I can't just go back to my childhood sanctuary.

I guess Christ will just have to get that much bigger for me.