They say home is where the heart is. If that’s true, it’s no wonder I feel like I have homes all over the place. There’s my parents’ home in California. I’ve never actually lived there, but your family’s house is always home. Then there’s Tennessee, of course. Elisa’s house is like my vacation home. And camp is kind of my summer home.

But when people ask where I’m from, I’m starting to say Michigan. I’m driving to this home today. My organized inner self is itching to unpack. Oh to have a closet and dresser drawers! I’ve only been living out of a suitcase for 3 ½ months.

I think back to when I first made this drive, 355 days ago exactly. I stayed as long as I possibly could in Collegedale, and by the time I tore myself away, I was a wreck. I think I cried all the way to Nashville and tried to drown my sorrows in the bitter taste of CRUNK!!! I called as many friends as I could, just to make sure they still loved me. I listened to “The Wheel has Turned” by Aaron Roche on repeat at least 15 times, trying to accept that I would be okay going my own way.

Today is different. I leave as early as I can in the day so I can have time to catch up with Jamie when I get to Michigan. I listen to Switchfoot and N*SYNC and Mika, lots of happy sing-along music. I’m looking for my favorite landmarks along the way – the store that sells hundreds of lampposts and the giant yellow rocking chair big enough for Goliath's grandma. I think I’ll go to the beach tomorrow after I hear Dwight bring the word. Maybe I can pick some fruit on Sunday…I wonder if the blueberries are still in season. And peaches I bet!

As I cross the border into Michigan and start counting down the miles to Exit 15A, I am surprised to feel the same burst of excitement and anticipation that I get when I round the bend on 24 and see Chattanooga spread before me.

Why is this trip so different than it was a year ago? The friends I’ve left behind are only dearer to me now. There are still lots of unknowns up here, except now I know what it’s like to get frozen inside your own car.

I guess what’s different is that now I am coming to the place where I belong. In all my other homes, I will always be a visiting member of the family, but this is my spot. Not just because I pay rent and utilities here, but because this is where I have a purpose outside of my selfish need to love and be loved. This is where I chase my dream via a master’s. This is where I help students go do mission work. This is where I get paid to teach people how to talk and write.

I think I’ve been fighting belonging here. It hurts a little to have your heart in so many different places, and I didn’t want to invest in another. It seemed like to much work, too much risk.

But maybe a little heart stretching is good now and then.

Read More 10 comments | Posted by Miss Jehle