First, why “Transplanting Back Home?”
Because it is exactly what I am doing. Sure Phoenix is home but home has become many places.
Home is Tucson where I spent my first 2 years of marriage in our first house while working at my first real teaching job. It is where we had our favorite restaurants and hang outs and a church to call our own. It is where we struggled and survived and made the hard decision to see if somewhere else could become home.
Home is Thornton where I struggled to get a job and cried a lot and almost got lost and didn’t know a soul to call for help. It is where I found my tribe (for that moment) and had friends who not only fiercely loved me but let me fiercely love them back. It was the place where I found my love for kindergartners and picture books. The place where I had to struggle through the hard and saw the Lord meet me in the midst. It is where my first baby was born.
Home is Fishers where I struggled to adjust to being a new mom with no friends. The place where the Lord, again, met me in the struggle and brought the right people at the right time. It is where I fell in love with the state fair and the endless horizon. Where my second baby was born and I adjusted to being a new mom again, this time with some friends who prayed for me through too many sleepless nights. It is where I fell in love with a preschool and elementary school because of the amazing people who worked there and not only taught, but loved my kids. It is the place where I met the Lord in a way I never knew possible. It may have taken 7 of the 10 years, but it was home.
Now, home is in Phoenix. Again. The area we live in didn’t exist when I lived here last. It was all desert. Some of the people are the same and some have changed. It is getting to know a place all over again. Phoenix is the same and different all rolled into one. It is getting to know a new school and all the policies and procedures and figuring it all out. It is painting and hanging and making a home my own. It is learning and growing and once again leaning in to know that I am not alone, because so often it feels lonely.
Please don’t misunderstand, I don’t only lean into the Lord when I move. It is a daily exercise, a daily choice, a daily joy. But sometimes when you are leaning and you’re not sure if the walls will hold you or your tears will drown you, you hear the sweetest whispers saying “I’ve got you. Always.”
Here’s to making an old yet new place home.
katymordka.com 