A Whole Lotta Love

It’s been a little challenging for me to write a blog post since I don’t have an upcoming trip to the island for some time, but I realized that I want this blog to be about who I am, my life, AND my love for the island. So here goes nothin.

I’ve been listening to the song “Home” by Jack Johnson and the lyrics have really stuck with me the past couple weeks.

“Home is wherever we are if theres love there too.”

It’s been making me ponder what “home” means. I used to always think it was black and white-it’s where you grew up, where you live. But now, I’m not so sure that “home” is even a place. I think it’s more of a feeling.

I think it’s being surrounded by people who will make you feel like ripping your hair out one minute but then make you feel like a million bucks the next. I think it’s the smell of fresh coffee brewing and your favorite book. I think it’s a walk by the ocean and forgetting what dfamilia blogay it is.And as Kenny Chesney put it, I think it’s that “Old Blue Chair” that you can look at it just seems to know everything important in your life.

Those things definitely make me feel at home, but it’s much more than that as well. It’s a place where you feel welcomed, treasured, and loved. Home is how you feel when you are in the right place. It should be a little glimpse of what Heaven will be like. It’s when you are feeling sad, alone, or down in the dumps, and you can think of that feeling you get when you are home, and everything can be okay again.

Home is tricky because people do think it is soley a place. But what I’ve realized, a house is a place. But houses are bought and houses are sold. They come and go and just because you have a house doesn’t mean you have a home. My house doesn’t hold that much sentimental value to me, but when I think about the people in it, the memories I hold, and the life I have lived in it…Now that’s home.

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My beautiful friends in North Carolina

I think “home” makes you who you are and who you are makes a home. That being said, home isn’t limited to one place or one feeling. Baltimore, Greenville, and Turks and Caicos are all very different, but they all make me feel at home. Treasured, welcomed, loved. Whether it be heading down to Camden Yards on a Friday night for an Orioles game, painting canvas’ and having bible studies with my friends from Greenville (RACHEL: you made it on my blog!!), or relaxing and talking all night with a friend in Turks and Caicos. It all feels like home. And that’s exactly what I think Jack Johnson is getting at. Three different places, but one feeling. Home is wherever. But theres gotta be love.

The fact that three places can feel like home for me speaks wonders about my definition of “home”. It’s about the people, the laughs, the cries, the memories. That what makes a home.

You can’t put that into your GPS to find it. You have to find it yourself.

As I move back to North Carolina in about a week, I will keep Jack Johnson’s lyric in the front of my mind. We just gotta have lovephoto-2.

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