Creating a Home in a New Place
I am very drawn to the notion of home. Sometimes, it’s a physical location like a hometown but mostly, it’s a feeling of comfort, being known and community. I even love images that evoke a strong sense of home (like the one I found above). This is why moving has always been hard for me. And as I’ve already hashed out in my piece, “Making Friends as Adults,” creating good friendships as adults takes so much time! Whenever I’m in a new place, I end up feeling isolated for months (sometimes even years) and I fantasize constantly about other places I’d rather be.
The well-known phrase that has become a mantra to me these days is, “bloom where you are planted.” This isn’t to say that I don’t think people should consider moving if they don’t like where they live or if they believe they’d be better off elsewhere. But when there’s a deeper knowing that they should be in a particular place and it’s just hard to get settled, that’s another issue. The latter is more my case. I didn’t choose to live in San Diego. I didn’t choose this home that I live in (it’s a parsonage). I didn’t choose this church. I resisted this new appointment like crazy. Now that I’m here though, it feels like the right fit. I have a deep knowing about this place, like I’m supposed to be here. We love this home, we love this church and my son loves his new preschool. We just haven’t created our community here. We haven’t made those lasting friendships. I haven’t found my perfect coffee shop, massage therapist, hair stylist—all those things that take time to discover—time that I hate giving because I’m overly eager for feeling like I’m home.
I’m realizing that the magic lies in this in-between time of settling in. Of putting myself out there and making new connections, of discovering new places for the first time and falling in love, of being faithful when I want cynicism to wash over me. It makes the joy all the more sweet when we find ourselves at a barbeque and look around to see all the wonderful friends we have made. It’s this in-between space where what I yearn for hasn’t arrived but I believe is in the works.
It just takes time. I know this. In the meantime, I will set my foot upon this soil and commit to this place and these people I don’t yet know. And hopefully, when I least expect it, I will start to bloom.