As the plane begins it's descent, I revert to my childhood rituals. Fortunate that no one was in a position to watch me, I blink furiously in an effort to stay awake and keep my contacts in place and simultaneously swallow with my mouth open to relieve the pressure in my ears. I chew hard on a piece of gum as the plane rapidly drops. Despite the nuisance of the pressure change, I am happy to be nearly home after 9 hours of travelling.
Home.
The word rolls around strangely in my mind as I contemplate my upcoming address change. Yes, Edmonton is home for another week. After that, home becomes an undefined entity, as the place where I regularly lay my head and the place where my family resides become separate. What is home?
These were the thoughts yesterday as I prepared to land in Edmonton. There is a hidden track by the band Downhere that I love with the lyrics "remind us that we have not reached home." This reminder comes back to me every time I prepare for a move. I apologize, again, to those of different faiths, but the reminder of heaven is so powerfully poignant to me right now. As blessed as I am, the earth is such a tragic place. Though I have so many opportunities, I feel confronted every day with the need for something different, something better. I long for the ultimate Home.
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