Homesick

It's been nearly five years since we packed up our clothes, furniture and monster picnic table and moved from the lushness of western Washington State to the rolling fieldlands of North Dakota.  

As we emptied our house, one question kept haunting me:  How can we possibly leave all this behind?  As we attended our church one last Sunday:  How can we possibly leave all this behind?  As we hosted our last "Wade & Ker's":  How can we possibly leave all this behind?  As we cried goodbye to family and friends:  How can we possibly leave all this behind?  In the first lonely months in our new home:  How could we possibly have left all that behind?

It's been nearly five years since we moved, and The Question rarely rears its head anymore.  We've made friends.  We've found a church family who is truly a gift from God.  We've learned that though God takes away, He also gives so much more than we ask or deserve.

But as we left Washington last week, after a week-long visit with my parents, a visit to my aging grandma, a girls' night with childhood friends, camping with my family at my favoritest place in the whole world, pinochle and other games with my family, Boggling with my Mom, seeing my sons going on half-day-long fishing trips with my Dad, The Question rushed back with all the force it had five years ago:  How could we possibly have left all this behind?

It's been five days since we came back home to North Dakota, but The Question is still haunting me.