from the other side of christmas break

 

I was sort of scared to go home for Christmas. Somehow I had gotten so used to being in Florida that even though I knew I missed home, I was afraid that maybe my memories were faulty…maybe it wasn’t as good as I remembered. I was afraid to have my wistful recollections proven wrong.

But I was also looking forward to it because I wanted to find out. I wanted to know if my perspectives would be different, or if things about home would seem changed. I wanted to see if I’d miss Florida and if I’d be oh-so-ready to come back.

Well, now it’s behind me, and I have found out.

The first couple of days were weird. Certain details about my house seemed slightly different. The front door seemed exaggeratedly further left than my memory had told me, and the hardwood floor looked a lot brighter and bolder. My bedroom, which I share with two sisters instead of just one roommate, seemed unbelievably small. All the mountains and hills and evergreen trees—not to mention my seven-year-old sister—seemed so much taller.

One thing that didn’t shock me at all, however, was the weather. I slipped back into the twenty- and thirty-something temperatures with no trouble whatsoever. In fact, I thrived in it—and oh my, it was blissful to drink copious quantities of fresh, ice-cold mountain water!

I think the most exciting thing about my trip was that it truly did not disappoint. To be with my family and with Sam again was everything I needed. To lope my horse over the snowy backroads in the mornings made me feel like royalty. To eat my mom’s delicious food and play games of Catan with my brothers and go out to fancy restaurants with Sam… to feel the snow falling softly on my face, to feed the chickadees out of the palm of my hand till my fingers froze, to drive down our road at night and see the Christmas lights on our dormer windows… gosh it was wonderful.

Of course, the problem with having such a beautiful vacation was that I had to say goodbye. It was hard. Very, very, very hard. Coming back to eighty degrees and flat landscape and stale water when I could have so many of my closest friends, all my beautiful mountains, all my beloved animals, and all the winter wonderland of Washington wasn’t what I necessarily would have chosen for myself.

But home lacks one very important thing that made my return more than worth it: the opportunity to spend hours and hours of my week deep in the Word of God, and to be taught and discipled by some of the most knowledgeable and loving people that I know. That is what I sorely missed while I was at home. I saw so much less of my Bible, both in church and out of it, and I got terribly hungry for it. So I will press onward and finish strong… homesick as I may be. :)