Nestless?

Buna Ziua!

Well, we've been in Romania nearly a week now. And the strangest part for me, so far, is that it doesn't feel strange.

Sure, a couple things seem a little out of place. The toilet paper is red. I've seen some green paper towels. We've had some sort of chicken hot dogs for breakfast - twice. I like their soup, but don't really care for the amount of tomatoes we're eating. I'm having to teach myself to tolerate potatoes.

But, all in all, things aren't all that different. They have stores here; grocery shopping was an adventure, but we managed to find everything we needed for some sandwiches. They have gas stations - with less soda and more alcohol. They have restaurants; I had a delicious venison stew on the way here from Bucharest. They have roads, cars, houses, apartments . . . dogs. Everything that I'm used to seeing. They have computers and cell phones - and a good enough wireless internet for me to be able to post this in the middle of a mountain range.

Everyone keeps telling us that it's okay - normal, even - to feel a uncomfortable. To be sick of the food here. To be a little - or more than a little - homesick. I'm not worried about that. My question is: Is it okay not to? Is it okay that I don't feel uncomfortable at all?

During a group meeting today, we were each asked to choose a picture that reflected how we felt. I chose a little bird flying over some waves on the ocean. Distant. Aloof.

It's not that I'm trying to keep my distance. Quite the opposite; I've participated in nearly everything that's come my way. I've loved every hike we've gone on. Enjoyed the low ropes course activities we did. Dana's birthday party last night was wonderful, and I almost cried when Briana started dancing to Beauty and the Beast because it reminded me of how much my sister and I loved singing that song when we were kids. We toured Lupeni yesterday with some local teens, and I interacted as much as my rather broken Romanian and rather quiet personality would allow. We started Viata camp today, and I'm thoroughly enjoying our group.

All this is to say that I've felt happy. Excited. Lightheaded. (The church was a little crowded and stuffy today.) Tired. Nervous. Frustrated. Elated. Everything I expected to feel. Except uncomfortable. Out of place. Homesick.

Maybe it's just my personality; I have a tendency to unconsciously keep a bit of a distance. Maybe the other shoe is still waiting to drop. Maybe I'm just plain crazy.

Or maybe there's another reason.

While discussing my bird metaphor, Janelle asked if the bird had a nest to return to. I didn't have an answer at the time, and it took a little prayer journal reflection for me to find my answer to that. A Bible verse kept coming back to me. In both Matthew and Luke, there's a man who tells Jesus that he's ready to follow Him wherever He goes. Jesus replies, "Foxes have dens, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head" (Mt. 8:20, Lk. 9:58).

Maybe we're called to that same sort of mobility. To be able to get up and leave for a faraway land on a moment's notice.

Now, I'm nowhere near that. I agree that it's certainly perfectly normal to feel uncomfortable. I'm sure there are places where I would feel out of place. (Chicago or any large city comes to mind. I visited Minneapolis for a few days last summer, and even that was a little too big for my liking.) But Jesus' words helped me to realize that it's okay that I don't feel uncomfortable or homesick here. That I don't really feel like I have one particular "nest". Because, when we're following Jesus, maybe nowhere is really home.

Or maybe . . . maybe everywhere is home.

There's a quote that's been coming to my mind from Star Trek: Voyager. I forget which episode, but, at some point, Chakotay says, "Home is wherever you happen to be."

That's how I feel right now. There are a lot of places I call home. Virginia. Michigan. Minnesota. Northwestern. Maybe I need to add Romania to that list, because that's where I "happen to be" right now. And forgive me for quoting sci-fi series twice in two paragraphs, but, as Delenn from Babylon 5 would say, "Wherever we are is the right place at the right time."

This feels right. Above the excitement and the anticipation and the nervousness and whatever else is the simple idea that I'm completely at peace with the fact that I'm right here. Right now.

My thanks to anyone who took the time to bother reading this rather long post. Have a wonderful day . . . or night . . . or whatever it is there, wherever you happen to be.

Godspeed,
Beth