It Feels Good to be Home

We made it! Bags intact and all five flights on-time. Montgomery-Memphis-Detroit-Nagoya-Manila-Cebu. Whew! Door-to-door the trip took 42 hours. That included 6 hours of sleep in a hotel in Manila. Not bad. I think Andrey and I are becoming quite the travelers as trips like these just don't seem to be that big of a deal anymore. In some ways they are even fun - a good time to decompress and think and be before delving into life as usual again. We'd better enjoy it while it lasts because traveling with 1-2 kids is going to change that!

There was some stress in the beginning when it wasn't clear if we were going to get seats together on the 12-hour flight from Detroit to Nagoya. Even though we booked months ago and checked-in online 24 hours in advance, we were assigned separate seats and weren't able to change them. Being separated on the shorter flights is no big deal but for that one long one I really like to sit with Andrey so I can prop my head on his shoulder to sleep and not have to worry that I'll lean into and drool on a stranger in my drowsiness. Thankfully, a kind young Filipino man was obliged to switch seats so that we could sit together. I was so happy. We both slept most of the flight. We both had "fat feet" by the end of it.

The title of this post mentions "home." I use this term when going "home" to North America and when we return "home" to Asia. What is "home" anyway? This is something I've pondered lately, especially as I wonder what our future kids will identify as their home. For us home is a very loose term. Now that we are well up-rooted from our life in North America there is no one place that feels like home more than any other. There are elements of home in many places we go.

Home is where family is. Home is where we currently live. Home is the ease I feel when comfortable and surrounded by familiarity. Home is a sense in my being that whispers, you are secure, you are loved. Home is where I am truly free to be myself. Home is with Jesus. And since His Spirit lives in me I can feel at home anywhere. One day I will meet my Jesus face-to-face and in His embrace I will really find out what it feels like to be home.

What will I teach my kids about home? I think that I want them to know their place in God's family first, then their place in our family, then their place in the world/on this earth. I guess if you have your identity straight then your definition of home can be very loose without it threatening your peace. I think home is wrapped up in identity. Maybe that's why I have no problem with home meaning so many different things - because underlying it all I know who I am. I am a child of God, part of God's family. I want my kids to know who they are and where their true home is. I think this will be important as I can imagine that it may be a little confusing to be from the Philippines but have a couple of Americans for parents and potentially live in a country other than either of those two places (because who knows where we will live once/if we leave the Philippines). I do hope we get to stay in the Philippines for a while though and that our kids will have the opportunity to stay in their home country during the initial adoption adjustment/bonding period. I'm not exactly sure why I think that would be great but even if that doesn't happen I believe that our kids can have a healthy concept of home. I mean, what a better way to experience life in God's family? Afterall, we are orphans. We've been adopted into God's family. Perhaps it is a privilege for our kids to have the opportunity to grasp that from the beginning. Perhaps they will have to learn about their true identity early on without being limited to an identity related to their nationality. Not that I won't expose them to and educate them about their Filipino heritage as I think that is important but I want to model and teach an expanded definition of home as I have come to understand it.

I was happy to arrive in Cebu today...even with the dense, humid air that slapped us in the face as we got off the plane. I was happy to enter our house and rediscover its unique smell. America and Canada felt pristine and shiny. In comparison Cebu City is bedraggled. Chaotic. Developing. Foreign. Driving through traffic with the windows down I felt grateful for the breeze and the white, puffy clouds that made the day just shy of unbearably hot. Ah yes, I know this feeling. Sweat immediately forming in the crevasses of my body. My bangs that were so cute and stylish suddenly a nuisance. Even though we have air-con in our car, we drove with the windows down so we could take in the sounds and smell of this place that is remarkably strange yet familiar. There are just so many people. Everywhere. Lots of them.

"Oh look! The pineapple guy!" I tell Andrey to pull over. I plan to buy two (they're small). The man says, "3 for 100 pesos." "Alright," I say. How wonderful! Three delicious pineapples that have already been shaved for about $2! Oh joy. By tomorrow I'll have a few canker sores but who cares.

Well that's all for now. My brain is fuzzy and I'm not sure if I'm making any sense at all, just rambling a bit. It's almost 7 pm here and I'm starting to fade. It's time to get up and do something. I've got to make it until 9 pm at least. That's the rule.