i am at home…in the sun. the sun has a way of shining life into what i often feel is a dark soul. like a plant, i truly feel the life that it gives me.

at the university starbucks. i had a day at this starbucks, last year i think, that i just sat in a big comfy chair and read the Bible, drank a toffee nut latte, and let the suns rays- protruding through the window- warm my body and my heart.

with my mom. since i got to college, i have begun to understand the love that my mom has for me and i have seen her generous heart and protection manifest itself. i love to be with her, to share laughter with her, to watch gilmore girls with her, to contemplate life with her, to share shoes and necklaces with her, and mostly just to love her and feel her love coming back to me.

in writing. this is kind of new. but lately, i feel more at home in my writing. my thoughts. blogging. just getting it out there. making a record of my life. perhaps no one will read it. but i have to know that there is something holding onto my thoughts, hopes, dreams, fears, desires, and struggles. i am beginning to feel at home in myself. my writings express who i am in a pure, raw sort-of way.

in nature. the sun is a major part of this. but in general, there is something about creation that screams “you are alive” and “God is beauty.”

in my art. making art has become another extension of myself. a way for me to understand and cope with how i feel and who i am. inspired by God, i believe the art that i create is a piece of me, made known to the world or not, that i can depend on to remain true.

with Christ. i left this one for last on purpose. mainly because it’s what i aspire to. and now with letting go of everything i held onto for religion for so long, i feel more at home. i mean, how are we to be at home with Him when we are constantly trying to be someone that we are not. someone who is constantly failing at being the perfect christian. i tried and tried and i couldn’t be perfect. couldn’t do enough. that doesn’t feel like home. God doesn’t feel like home when you are constantly afraid that he is angry at you. that he wants to punish you and reprimand you for getting carried away with anger again, or for choosing not to read the Bible that day.

i am not here yet. i do not feel fully at home in Him. but i feel like its coming. i feel like when i finally let go of it all and for the first time, actually give myself to him, that He will be my home. the home everlasting, that will not fade away. the home that does not come and go with the seasons. that i do not have to leave behind when i move to another country. the home where i lay my head at night, but continue to rest there during the day. the home in which i swirl endlessly, barefoot in the grass.

(first picture courtesy of erin riley)