Yesterday we visited the house we'll be moving into in January.

It's another God story, another house given to us.

But part of me is like, "Seriously?! I'm moving again?!"

I just want to settle.

To nest.

To feel "home."

Sometimes, when we're frustrated, 

we go for a drive and scream out the windows,

"THIS WORLD IS NOT MY HOME!!!!!!!!"

I have packed up my car, suitcase, or backpack 28 times in the past 7 years.

I'm not even counting mission trips (besides the Race) or short trips.

We're talking my bedding, clothes, dishes, all of it.

28 times!

Sure, I technically had my room at home during most of that time.

But I never consistently lived there.

It was full of old high school memories and off season clothing.

I moved 9 times before kindergarten.

Then once in Junior High.

That means I've moved 39 times in my life.

Additionally,

I have not been stationed/based/living in the same place

for longer than three months at a time

since the summer of 2006.

And it is about to be 2013.

And come January, I'm moving again.

And even though I still haven't unpacked my trunk from the move to Georgia in August,

I'm excited.

It's time for move #40.

FORTY.

This will be the longest I've lived anywhere in 7 years.

SIX WHOLE MONTHS!

In case this is confusing,

I'll still be in Gainesville, GA, working for Adventures,

but there is a need for more housing, so some of

us are moving so the newbies can have the big house.

A new place to lay my head.

And then it's off again,

Serving and leading overseas for a few months.

And who knows where the wind of the Holy Spirit will lead from there?

So even though I don't have the space to unpack my trunk,

and I've been driving around with my mom's old Kitchen-Aid mixer in my backseat since Thanksgiving,

And sometimes the nomad/gypsy life gets a little old,

I'm reminded daily:

This world is not my home.

We are pilgrims and strangers in this land.

I'm just passing through,

quite literally,

and trying to bring others along on my journey.

So as much as I want to "nest."

And be settled.

And be able to take the Kitchen-Aid mixer out of my backseat,

I know I'm on a journey.

A Kingdom Journey, if you will.

All I know is I'm not home yet.

This world is not my home.

So in the meantime, I'll embrace the move.

Embrace the change.

Embrace wherever the Spirit leads.

And maybe, come January, my Kitchen-Aid mixer can come out of my backseat.

And settle in our new little home for the Spring.

For now.

So, will you join me in this scary little thing called life?

And realize this world is not and will never be our home?

Let's journey with Jesus together.