I grew up with an odd sense of “home”.

That word is so warm and delicate.

I lived with my mom and stepdad and every other weekend I would live with my dad and stepmom.

Both places were home.

Neither place was home.

I was so lonely.  I just didn’t realize it.

Home is where I am completely at peace and completely myself.

I listened to an old album I recorded the other day and I cried thinking about a friend named Kyle.  Kyle knew me better than most people.  And in a time in my life where a lot of people judged me constantly, Kyle never did.  He accepted my inappropriate jokes and didn’t look down on my questions about God or about what we were recording.  Kyle is 7 years older than me and way more talented musically, but he always treated me as an equal and deferred to me.  Occasionally me and Kyle talk or text.  And no matter how insignificant the conversation…

i am home.

Brittany is my home.  We are so close that I think only a small percentage of people in the world are fortunate enough to understand what we share.  She is more influential in my life than anything I listen to or read.  I can sit in silence for hours with Brittany and feel more peace than 30 seconds of quiet around anyone else.  Brittany and I are woven together with fabrics of depth that are so smooth and comfortable.  I wrote her a song once that I guess would be titled “You Are My Home”. There is nothing hidden.  And anytime we are alone…

i am home.

Asheville, NC.  Colorado.  New Smyrna Beach, FL.  Gainesville, FL.  Kauai.  Alpharetta, GA.  Those places are all home.  I lived 28 years in Orlando, FL but it does not feel like home.  That used to be rooted in resentments.  But not anymore.  I am going to Gainesville, FL in a couple of weekends and I am excited because it literally feels like I am going home.  I’m not sure how to explain that.  But when I drive through the city of Gville…

i am home.

Brittany and I went hiking with Adam and Kylie over the weekend.  You might not know who those people are, but I do.  The 4 of us climbed 600ish stairs together to see a waterfall that brought tears to my eyes and spent about 2 hours in a car each taking turns picking a song to play from the ipod.  I spent the morning with my 3 favorite people in the state of Georgia.  I see so much beauty in those people.  I am blessed to say that when I am around them…

i am home.

I text Aaron and Casey pretty much every day.  They have known me for almost all 30 years of my life.  Occasionally I stop and think about how much they love me.  And I cry real hard.  I don’t see them very often.  But every time I text one of them or they text me, no matter how silly our conversations…

i am home.

When I watch The Wonder Years.  When I listen to soulful singing.  When I stand on a stage and talk about Jesus.  When I watch shows at Fox Theater.  When I play sports video games.  When I am in my 10yr old Dodge Neon…

i am home.

One of my biggest insecurities is that people only love me for what I can do for them.  But in the places and the people and the moments that I feel at home, I am resigned to the calmness that covers me like a warm blanket.  I only bring myself to the table when I am home.  And people aren’t waiting for something from me.  They are thankful for me.  And in the moments that I am completely at ease with everything and everyone and myself…

i am home.

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