home. what a word. up until i was 17, home meant a little brick house or my family members. i mostly liked that definition of home, only regretting that it also included fighting and sorrow sometimes. when i was 17, i found a different home of sorts, my current church. i felt the emotions everyone uses to describe home there, and still do; i feel welcomed and watched over and loved. no matter which definition i used, all my homes were in greenville, and so venturing outside the area became a scary thing for me, even to the point of shutting down when it happened.
evan arrived last saturday to my house, the first college friend to come inside that little brick dwelling, and arguably, the one who i wanted most to like it and be liked by my family. they, of course, loved him already, but that had only been tested over very short periods; this was a lot longer. mario kart and home cooked meals and conversations (sometimes awkward) ensued with them on saturday, sunday, and monday, and they seemed to like him okay. but then tuesday came. we were supposed to go to charleston to see his family, his home, something i had never really gotten up the guts to do, and this time was no different; i let my fears convince me i did not want to go. so this led to an hour long conversation, tears on both ends, so much warring in my heart, but the pain i saw inflicted on him won: i agreed to try. if my family thought they liked evan before, they definitely liked him now. and about 4 hours later, i was in charleston, hanging out with 4 awesome individuals and the love of my life. over the next 2 1/2 days, we saw christmas lights, went downtown, i walked on my first pier, had some amazing food, played frisbee in weather entirely too cold, played more mario kart and rock band, saw his apartment, and had the privilege of seeing the amazing connection between evan and his family. i fell in love with his family and the city and the parts i had not yet seen of the man i already loved. and now we are back at my house, experiencing board games and great food and contra dancing that made us dizzy in each others’ arms.
so what does this have to do with the idea of home? lots. while there were most definitely hard moments, scary moments, so so much stretching done over the past 8 days, i would not trade any of it for the world or money or the comfort i thought i would have here. i have added another definition to “home,” but it is not subsurvient to the others…evan is home. while he is not in greenville, parts of him are. while he is not part of my nuclear family, i hear he would like to change that. he is a part of redeemer, even being 300 miles away every sunday. the old adage is “home is where the heart is,” and my heart is with him.
