Fifteen years ago this month, I found my seat on flight 857 from Philadelphia to Orlando. With me I carried two suitcases, $500, a one-way ticket, a tummy full of butterflies, and a head bustling with dreams.
It was my time. Time to assert my independence. Time to “make it” in the world. Time to stand tall and start fresh. Time to do things my way in a town where nobody knew my name. Time to reinvent that soft-spoken small-town girl. Time to fire up my career, dive into love and secure my footing on Happily-Ever-After Avenue.
Some say I was brave. Others are certain that I was nuts. Since the line that separates courage from crazy is thin, I probably stumbled from one side to the other until landing my bearings.
My heart gently quivers as I look back on the adventure that was nothing I had expected it to be, yet was everything I needed.
Disney World became my playground, I found a job, made friends and fell in love. And then I lost my job, said goodbye to many friends, and realized that my definition of love was skewed. I thought about giving up…about going home…until I realized that at least for the moment, there was no place to run. I was home. I realized that the leap I made took me to where I needed to be in order to make the next leap when able. Because life is about leaping and growing and finding your way as God’s light guides you from one home to the next.
Sometimes, home is a soft place to land and other times, home is a tough mess in need of restoration. One thing that home never needs to be is empty.
Is there a time in your life when you took a leap and it led you in an unexpected yet beautiful new place? What does home look like to you?
Angela Nazworth blogs at Becoming Me, while leaping and growing in her umpteenth temporary home this side of heaven.Leave a Comment