I got asked again last night where I consider home to be. Is it Portland or is it Mexico? Having been away from Portland for a year and a half now, the question is warranted. When I leave Portland, do I feel like I'm going home? When I leave mexico to visit Portland, do I feel like I'm going home? Is Portland my real home but Mexico is my home away from home? Although I've only been living in my Mexican town full-time for 6 months, I've been in and out of that ministry and that town for over 8 years.
On the flight to San Diego this morning, I couldn't help but think about these questions. While today I feel like I'm heading "home" to my house, my belongings, my job, my friends, my church duties, my dog, my roads for running, and my Mexican sunrises, I left my heart-home. I say goodbye to my best friends, my family, my wonderful rain, and anything I could want at my fingertips.
Make no mistake, I continually ask myself if what I do is worth it. Is it worth only seeing my friends and family twice a year? Is it worth missing out on so many moments with them?
It is. I continually ask myself, and I continually remind myself that it is. My beautiful students are worth it. It is worth it when Andrea crawls into my lap to read a book with me. It is worth it when I walk in the cafeteria and they yell my name and want a high five. Those funny, crazy kids at church are worth it. It is worth it when I teach them a new game and make them laugh by falling on the floor. Most of all, it is worth it because I know God is in it.
Am I missing out, or do my gains outweigh my losses?
I am always asked where I feel my home is, but more often I am asked how long I plan to be in Mexico. I shrug my shoulders and say I have no idea. For how long? I'm not sure. But for now, it's worth it.
Bellamente dijo, mija querida.
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