home is found--
quite unexpectedly.
it sort of sneaks up on you when you're not really looking.

you crave it when it's missing or gone awry.
its absence is keenly felt.
the ache it leaves in your gut is unmistakable.

depending on how long you're out of sorts--
if home isn't really home anymore
or doesn't have the same location
or isn't easily accessible
if the people have changed
or moved away
or you have changed--
the light at the end of the tunnel is more of distant memory
than a future reality.

but it's something we never stop longing for--
a place where we feel safe even when life isn't
filled with people we love even when they drive us crazy.
it's written on our hearts.
you can see it in a child's eyes
or in the deep inhale of a college student home for the holidays
or in the sigh of relief of a working parent after a long, hard day.

i think i've found it here.
actually i think it found me.
it snuck up on me when i stopped fighting.
it caught me off guard.
somewhere between the hospital visit and wedding,
i started saying i'm going home--
and it's my home.
it's not where my parents are, or my sister, or where i grew up, or Chicago, or Miracle Camp.
it's here now.
those were all, at one or several points in time, my home, some with a very temporary feeling.
and they were always contigent on a predetermined factor--where i was born, who i was born to, where i chose to go to school or work during school--for a set period of time that i knew would eventually end. and i thought that it would be a long time before i found home again.
for real this time.
on my own terms.
i kept it at bay, arm's length if you will. determined to remain detached.
but somewhere between that hospital visit and wedding, i let my guard down.
and it got me.

you know how i know? because for the first time in a very long time, i'm excited to go on a trip because i know i have somewhere and someone(s) to come back to.
and i'm not afraid it's all going to change.