My Place Is Here—For Now

//It used to be people would dig the seed of themselves into earth, wherever they landed on this swirling gas ball. Place was a wall, a shelter, a home they built onto for a lifetime. The ground beneath them where their shoots took root was their entire world day upon day. This plot of terra firma perhaps the nutrients to the wood of their own cradle and the blanket wrapping up their own body at death.

Who are we when place has transformed into a breeze, or an email? We capture it in a breath, hit Send, and move on with life.

My husband and I bantered this out the other night. I see home as people. He longs for the place we will stay for a set period of time. I’ve never had a permanent home persay because our family moved nearly every four years. This was the pattern. This is what we did. I adapted. I moved.//

Because rooted places never seem to take to the plant of me, I learned to carry my sense of place in lonelier landscapes: in the what was to be of future pursuits, in friendships hoped for and sometimes found, in food, spirit, and experience. Here I could move on without being disappointed. Here I found hope in the what could be.

It’s true, society is more transient than ever. I am a product of this constant motion: a child at heart who finds home is more people than place. I’ve adapted and taken my roots out of the ground and extended them as arms to other displaced friends, for whatever time we have each other.

I love this world and every place it will take me. Yes, I long for home and hearth, identity and community, as people did of old. Sometimes at night, I walk out on the deck and stand upon my two strong legs under stars. I lift my eyes to a fixed point of light and know, like you may know too, my place is with God. Here is good, for now.

This post is part of Five Minute Friday, a creative community of writers taking the weekly challenge to write for five minutes on one word. Join us!

(// Indicates the beginning and end of five minutes.)

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August 11, 2017
  • Emma Hughes

    “I learned to carry my sense of place in lonelier landscapes: in the what was to be of future pursuits, in friendships hoped for and sometimes found, in food, spirit, and experience. Here I could move on without being disappointed. Here I found hope in the what could be.” This is so wistfully poetic and profound… the protection of the imagined… so powerful, my friend! The layers and soul in your poetry – so perfect.

  • Tara Ulrich

    Oh friend, so much THIS: ” love this world and every place it will take me. Yes, I long for home and hearth, identity and community, as people did of old. Sometimes at night, I walk out on the deck and stand upon my two strong legs under stars. I lift my eyes to a fixed point of light and know, like you may know too, my place is with God. Here is good, for now.” Beautiful! I’m in the 62 spot this week.

  • JeanneTakenaka

    Christina, I’m with you, home is rooted more in people than in a place. In our moves, my heart yearned for those new friendships to begin. Yes, I wanted the settledness of our home set up, but even more, I craved connection with others. Funny how God makes men and women different, isn’t it?

    • That’s a great point, Jeanne. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Experience, gender, and personality all blending to make us who we are, learning to figure this out, if we ever really do. Thanks for being a steady place for me at the retreat!

  • Tammy

    Though we didn’t move as frequently, we moved enough to satiate my desire to move ever again. My husband and I have been in our home for 12 years this month (and celebrate 13 years married next month). I’ve never lived anywhere for more than 6 years.
    Still, I’m glad that for both of us, our place is with God.
    I had that thought, but it was so different in the delivery. 😀
    Love,
    Tammy
    (#52 this week)

    • Great minds! Sounds like Oregon wants you for keeps.

      • Tammy

        Ha ha, yes it does. This is my second round in Oregon. The first one was only six years. 🙂

        • That makes better sense. Well, there are worse places, my friend! I seriously loved Oregon when we visited a few years back. Do you like it or Nebraska better?

  • “Here is good for now.” “With God.” <3 You always inspire me, amiga. #intheheart
    How exciting about your road trip, as well!

  • Sarah Geringer

    We are writing on a similar theme from different vantage points, Christina. I feel like your husband, in that home is a place. I long to be set in one place for decades. Yet my husband moved around more often, like you did. Interesting to consider the different perspectives. I’m #40 at #fmf this week, and I wrote about our family homeplace.

    • Love that! I need more perspective like yours. It balances out the wanderlust.

  • Carol Van Der Woude

    I don’t know what it is like to move every four years, but I connect with the sense of place being with people. While we traveled in Finland we visited several large cathedral like churches that were open to the public. Finland has a State Church–for weddings and funerals. When I talked with my relatives the idea that church is a community of believers was outside of their experience. I was saddened and I am motivated to pray for revival in Finland, for a new understanding of the church there. I enjoyed your post. I am your neighbor at FMF. Have a blessed weekend!

    • Hi Carol, what an experience! I’ve heard much of Europe is like this now. Praying with you for their hearts to know Christ’s community.