When Home Shifts: Lessons in Belonging
The Drive Between Two Worlds
Just yesterday, I drove five kids and a dog ten hours from New Jersey back to South Carolina. South Carolina is where we live now, but for twenty-five years New Jersey was home. To go back felt familiar and strange all at once. We saw so many people we love, yet we no longer had a place to retreat to at the end of the day. It was like visiting the set of a life we once lived.
There’s something sacred and unsettling about going back to a place that holds so much of your story. It stirs gratitude and ache all at once — the sweet reminder of where you’ve been and the quiet awareness that you’ve changed. I’m learning to hold both: the comfort of familiarity and the courage it takes to live in a new season.
A Week Without My Husband
Now James has stayed behind in New Jersey for work, and I’m navigating the week with the kids on my own. When he’s away, I loosen the reins — simple meals, simpler evenings. He never asks me to be formal with dinners; it’s just something I do when we’re all gathered. I value family meals deeply, but this week, grace looks like giving myself permission to keep things easy.
Saying Yes When It’s Easier to Say No
Grace also looked like saying “yes” last night when my body wanted to say “no.” We’d just gotten home at 5:30 pm (after what ended up being a twelve hour drive), but at 6:30 pm I was back in the car, driving my daughter to a new gymnastics class a half an hour away. I had to bring the littles along since my older ones got a ride to a school event, and honestly—it felt insane. She could have waited until next week to start. But she’s been begging for a month, and lately her heart has been heavy with homesickness.
Her thirteenth birthday is coming, and she worries about being left out of Halloween plans with her new peers. She misses her friends up north and feels unsure of her place here. The irony doesn’t escape me—back in New Jersey, she wasn’t always the best at including others, something we talked about often. Now she’s on the other side of that, longing to be invited in.
Yet one kind girl has gone out of her way to welcome her, and it was this friend who invited her to gymnastics. So, I grabbed a tea, packed up the car, and drove. When she walked out of class glowing, I knew it was worth every ounce of exhaustion.
What I’m Learning About Belonging
And that’s what this season is teaching me: that home isn’t just about the place, or even the meals we eat at the table. It’s about showing up in love, especially when it costs us something. Belonging takes time, but it begins with small acts of inclusion—the ones that remind us we are seen, chosen, and loved.
💭 Reflection for You:
Have you ever been in a season where you felt like the outsider—longing to belong? What small act of inclusion made the difference for you?
