On being away from home

When our trip around Europe was winding down, I found myself missing Cambridge like I did Wisconsin when I first arrived here. That was an odd realization.  It's become mine. It's comfortable instead of being new or "foreign." I have relationships which have become strong enough to tie a part of myself here forever. In just three months, this place has become home. My friend Hilary has told me about this being a phenomenon that happens with her friends here. When I told her how much I missed church, she exclaimed, "You see? It's happening! A piece of your heart is in Cambridge now, and you'll leave it here when you go back home." Darnit.

Something I've learned, being away from my homeland:

I've always been in the position of hostess. I think I inherited this from my parents. They were constantly having people over for Bible studies, church parties, Superbowl shindigs, etc. In highschool, most of the times my friends and I would hang out, it would be at my place. When college came around, our house, being strategically-located 10 minutes from campus, became a revolving door of friends coming by to spend the night, have bonfires, jam sessions, movie nights, and even just sit at the kitchen table and get advice from my mom. And as the lone commuter in the group, I regularly gave people rides or made them cookies or provided the transportation to whatever place we wanted to visit together. As crazy as that would sometimes be, I loved it. Helping others in such a tangible way was always deeply satisfying.

Before this starts looking like a bragfest, let me say that I'm coming to think a good part of this was probably a control issue. I liked being in a stable enough position to give and not need to receive. It's nice to not feel like you're in somebody's debt.

But now, I'm the one who's receiving rides to places, appreciating the home-cooked meals of church friends, being reminded of my neediness day after day. It's very humbling. Having seen the other side of hospitality, I'm inspired by the examples set before me in my church here in Cambridge. It isn't easy to walk into an established church in a different country where you know nobody. But right away, people welcomed me, befriended me, and invited me into their homes. When I'm back in the States, I want to always remember that feeling when I see somebody new at church.

In the meantime, though, I'm seeing that my dependency on others here is a picture of my greater dependency on God. Just as I am in the position of accepting help from friends (rather than giving it), so am I completely needy of God's grace in every aspect of my life. He daily provides both my physical sustenance and perfects the good work He once began in me. On my own, I can't draw my own breath, and sure as heck can't beat to death the sin still plaguing me. But He does.

So rather than letting myself feel (proudly) uncomfortable in my current state of comparative helplessness, I want to see God's love through it instead. I think that's a big reason why Cambridge has become a second home so quickly - the people here have demonstrated, daily, the love of God toward one another.