Hours away from the place I grew up and still live, somewhere I only lived for 18 months, somewhere I hadn’t been in more than 5 years, it is home. It feels strange, sometimes, when I don’t think of this house as home anymore. This is the town I was born in, the one where I learned to drive, the one I can navigate without second thought, but it is not home anymore. Sure, when I’m coming home from school this is the home to which I refer, and I am safe here, but it is not the place that springs to mind when I hear the word “home.” I’m not entirely sure that it is a place, after all. All I know, is that when I am there, nearly monthly now, I feel truly loved, known, and content. They are my family. Each girl my sister-in-Christ, each hilarious, memorable, lovely. And the church, my stars. I walk into that foyer and suddenly I’m ten years old again, surrounded by people who know my name, who want to see me, who care about what I say. Now, all these years later, I still feel that. A year ago I walked into that church, full of anxiety and awkwardness, worried I would see someone I knew and not know what to say. But as my family sat in the sanctuary, I felt that tension disappear. It was still awkward at first to talk to the only girl I’d contacted prior to this visit, but I wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. Her father got up to preach and I could have cried. He mentioned my family’s presence, and then gave the best message I’d heard since we moved away. After the service I sat with that girl and talked about all we’d missed in each others lives. My sister dragged me away after a while and we went home, but the seed of true home had been replanted. In the following months I returned for a summer camp, met (or re-met) 8 wonderful girls, and have since spent every conceivable moment there. In my most recent visit the pastor joked that I was the reason for the upped Sunday school attendance, and talked to or referenced me three separate times in the main service, and I felt the love of the body of Christ in a way that I didn’t really know was possible.