The Gypsy Life

I've moved four times in the past sixteen months (which is not even a year and a half, for those of you who are arithmetically-challenged like me), and am staring down the barrel at another move in April. That's a lot. My material belongings are currently strewn about the Chicagoland area, or stored away in Grand Rapids, MI. My temporary domain: a spare bedroom (in the home of a wonderful, generous, amazing family) whose previous occupant was a 20-year old boy. 

For a moment, just imagine the decor. I'll give you a hint: the ceiling is painted with clouds, and small glow-in-the-dark stars are affixed to the dark spots with poster putty. With my glasses off, laying on my back in bed, I can almost imagine I'm camping out in the Canadian Rockies. Awesome. 

Every place I've lived has been a little bit different, and each of them had their perks. To be perfectly honest, when the time came, I was happy to leave each residence. And when I reached my new dwelling and got settled, I was quite happy there.

That said, I must emphatically declare that I HATE MOVING.

Yeah, there is the hassle of packing and unpacking, of cleaning and re-cleaning, of loading and unloading. But on a deeper level, moving really gets to me.

Pondering the etiology of my distaste for moving has been a continuation of the saga I like to call; "The Kate Project: a process of self-discovery." Thru the circumstance of interest, a.k.a. my constant state of dwelling-flux, I have learned that I'm a bit of a homebody. I like my space. I need to be able to identify my place in the world, not only in the theoretical sense, but in the empirical sense. I LOVE HOME.

There are endless psychological, spiritual and theological implications in this realization, but what comes immediately to my mind is a oft-quoted verse from John 14:1-2:

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms...I am going there to prepare a place for you."

What comfort those words hold. And even if, for a time, I lead this "Gypsy Life," I can rest assured that there is One who waits to bring me home. Home to a place that doesn't leak in the spring, or freeze in the winter. A place where my roommate never yells at me for leaving dishes in the sink. A place where I will never get kicked out. :)

A place like that might just be worth the move.