Find JOY in Every JOurneY.

A lunch break rambling:

 

For those of you who aren’t within earshot on a regular basis: I have a 3 hour daily commute.

Yes, it’s Houston. Yes, it’s frustrating. And yes, I can’t wait for it to be over.

But in a way that weirdly parallels what I am about to share, I have come to appreciate it for exactly what it is: an experience.

I have always been the type of person who liked to know exactly what my future held with the firm understanding that I would be in total control. One would think, given my past, I would have learned my lesson by now; but the other thing you’ll know if you’ve existed near me at any point in your life: I’m stubborn.

I grew up in Mobile, Alabama (duh) and in the 10^th grade my family got the news that we’d be moving to Austin, Texas where I finished high school. I applied to 10 or so colleges and ended up selecting TCU. Four years and three cities later, I was sort of from Fort Worth, hardly from Austin (lived there 3 years, went “home” every opportunity we could) and in my heart, from Mobile. I know it confused people to see my Austin driver’s license and hear my claim that I was still from Alabama. Southerners have a bizarre tendency to become very attached to land, I guess, and if you ask just about any of them where they’re from they’ll tell you where they were born and raised and not where they reside.

This is what comes to mind...(Do you mean to tell me, Katie Scarlett O'Hara...)

Anyway, after an eventful 7 year stint in Texas, I knew it was time for me to go home. I attended the University of Alabama, School of Law since it would be the most practical thing for me to do (now that I was a resident again) in order to practice in the State. After 3 years I received my degree and…crickets…crickets. Turns out the ole job market was just churning away in Texas, thus I took the Texas Bar Exam (3 days=hell) and started a job at a firm downtown Houston which brings me back to square one, my commute.

So here I am, driving down 1-45, trying my best the emulate the compassion of Christ towards the other drivers (bless their heart) rather than the angered frustration that I would certainly feel if I were left on my own. I thought to myself: “Self, you have lived in 4 cities in 10 years. You have moved apartments every single year since your senior year of high school, save one. What is your home, what are you doing?!”



With a marriage just little over 3 months away and another move imminent, I felt as though the control that I so desperately wanted to get my fingers around was slipping away. Actually “away” is sort of misleading because “away” implies that it was once “here” and is now “over there.”  

It was then that I realized, in the midst of a hellacious commute, wedding planning 3 states away, a long distance relationship and no sure knowledge of where I would call home in 3 months, that I needed to stop trying to get to my destination, and start realizing that all of these things are a part of my journey. These experiences are my story, and have helped shape who I am. So often in life we are confronted with the things that we should have/be doing. In a sense, life presents us with destinations: wedding rings, houses, jobs, babies, society memberships, salaries and lifestyles. Everyday Pinterest (yes, I love it, but yes, I’m going there) presents us with images of what our kitchens, front door décor and yes, bathrooms “should” look like. We are so easily looped into this “well, this is what I have now, but THIS is the dream bathroom/house/cabin/boat/kitchen/wardrobe that I will/should have.” So that posed the question, in the time that we have between the “where I am now” and “where I want to be” what happens? Life happens. When we are so caught up in the destination, but not the present, we miss the blessings. We become so consumed with what we have, versus what he/she/it/anonymous Pinterest poster has that we miss the joy.

It was the other day during a sarcastic and predictable tweet interaction with Cullen as we ended a weekend together that I realized part of me was missing the journey. He said “home is where the heart is.” Now, that’s certainly not earth shattering or news to anyone. But it hit me like a ton of bricks and I just couldn’t help but feel tears welling up as I sat in the Jackson airport. Home is where your heart, your experiences and your loved ones are. Your journey is what makes you special, and the people you make that journey with are what bring you home. No matter where the next phase of this journey takes me/us, I know that there will be home always in the hearts of those I love. Home is with the people that love and trust you. They are kind and generous, and you know you can trust them too. Home is with the people and opportunities that add a wealth of experiences to your life. When you realize that your life is not as much about where you’re going, but rather about where you are, you start to think more carefully about the people you want in your life. You start to examine how you spend your time in those frivolous hours that seem insignificant. How are you being shaped and affected by the people with whom you associate and the activities you perform daily?

As I often do on my commute, this morning I reminded myself that this situation was only temporary and that it would be over soon. Sure, as I move to the next stage of my life, my commute will be over, but that will not stop me from missing the little blessings along the way in each phase of my life, no matter how transitory they seem. After all, if we really aren’t in control, then it’s possible your life could be uprooted and changed forever tomorrow. It’s possible that you may view your tomorrow as a day that “has finally come.” However, God may want you to view today as the most blessed day that has come thus far. In our focus on tomorrow, we forget to find the joy in every journey.