I am here.
Sitting in an oversized chair, facing the window.
The fog rolls along the horizon, narrowly kissing the ocean as the warm rays of the sun fights to overtake it.
The sea breeze billows through the open window as the salty air assails my senses.
I am where home once was.
I am sitting among friends - fellowshipping among family.
Those I will see are those who know me, whom I have known for many years.
They have seen me grow up - from childhood to adulthood, from a baby in Christ to a missionary.
This is familiar.
I am home once again, navigating a new familiar, an old unknown.
Faces I love and longed to see from a distance are now a part of my every day.
And the sun still rises and I watch it lower itself daily, adding to a passage of time that I want to slow down and gain speed simultaneously.
This is my now.
Until January, when everything becomes the new normal.
When I return to where I left my heart and my new family, and once again restore new.
To my new normal, with confident refreshment. When I will look at the sun fighting behind the clouds, the wind and the rain cascading down the hills and can finally say,
I am here.
