Wednesday, November 19, 2014


There are two words that I used to cling to. Really, I still cling to them. Comfort zone. That may seem strange considering all of our moves and all of the different transitions across multiple states, new cities, new friends. But still, there's that sense of "home" and I cling to it with all of my might, wherever it may be.

This past year (2013), I thought I was finding a new home - a home that, while temporary, would allow me to relax and enjoy being close to family. That was going to be my "comfort zone," I had decided. I would stay home, work on some projects, enjoy some time with my little girl, and do some college classes.

God had other plans.

My year looked nothing like I expected. I travelled some 90,000 miles, across 14 states and two continents with a toddler in tow. I lugged 25lbs of luggage through the airport while holding a stroller. I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning trying to finish homework before a deadline. I did all kinds of crazy, random things.

But my year was good.

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