I Cave

I cave.

I'm homesick.

Yes, I know God is good all the time, and He has called us to this place.  I know there are good things and great people here, but today I just feel like curling up into a ball and wallowing in it for a bit.  

I love the heat here, but I miss temperatures that allow for outdoor activity.  Like a five minute walk that doesn't require a shower afterwards.  And while I'm at it, I miss sidewalks.

I miss bike rides and hikes and fresh air and open spaces.  And allowing our kids to play in playgrounds where we don't have to pay an entrance fee.

Mountain Equipment Co-op, Old Navy, and finding clothes in stores that might actually fit me. 

Health food stores and Superstore, and easily finding foods that don't contain wheat, dairy, sugar or MSG.  

Spinach and kale.  Local berries and apples.

I miss whatever governing body it is in Canada that inspects restaurants and grocery stores to make sure that employees wash their hands, food is refrigerated, and plastic is not melted into the cooking oil to make food more crunchy.  That was a dirty little secret about food here that I can never un-know.  

I miss being middle-class.  And being part of the visible majority.  And walking around without people staring at me.  Or laughing at me.

I miss driving, and what 'heavy traffic' in the Lower Mainland looks like.  Going anywhere at anytime without the risk of sitting in literally hours of traffic or getting caught in a flood.  

Public libraries.  Big bookstores.  Medical coverage.  Going to a hospital or a doctor's office without paying the receptionist on the way out.

My friends.  My tribe.  

God has blessed me with a handful of precious friends here.  True answers to prayer.  People who will, without a doubt, be forever friends.

But, with a deep ache, I miss my people.  My friends whose homes are messy, whose kids' hair is uncombed, and whose love and acceptance run deep.  The friends and family we've built traditions with - Menchies celebrations, birthdays, pumpkin carving, trick-or-treating, Turkey dinners.  Fellow advent-calendar-dropouts, Pinterest flunkies, and excommunicated Supermoms.  I miss having coffee with you, sharing our stories of messed-up parenting and missed teachable moments.  I haven't really allowed myself the time or space to miss you until now, and it is plowing me over like a Mack Truck.

I could easily tie this blog post up in a neat package, the silver lining in it all for a bow.  The blessings gained through hardship, the life-lessons learned.  But this evening I am keeping it real, keeping it messy.  No pretty paper.  No shiny bow.  

I am homesick.

And that is all.