I went to Pittsburgh last weekend for the Western Pennsylvania United Methodist Women’s annual meeting.
As the weekend approached, my focus was less on the meeting and more on being home. My bed, my favorite ice cream shop, driving, highschool friends-everything I have missed.
So, I traveled to Pittsburgh. I drove familiar streets. I visited with friends. I slept in my bed. It felt good.
But, it wasn’t until I walked into the meeting space on Saturday that I felt at home. I looked around at all of these familiar faces and the feeling washed over me. As I hugged and caught up with people ,as we went about our business I found myself repeating over and over, “it’s good to be home”. I meant it.
I’ve always been a pretty adaptable person, able to make wherever I am feel like home. This weekend, I felt a degree familiarity and understanding that I didn’t even know I missed. While I felt this in my room and with my friends and in my neighborhood. I felt it most in that room-the place I was least expecting it.
I’m thankful for the comfort that I found surrounded by people I grew up with. I’m thankful for the way their presence filled me up and reminded me who I am. I am thankful for the way God spoke a word of comfort and hope to me in that community. I am thankful the streets, the food, the friendships I have found in southwestern Pennsylvania. More than anything, I am thankful for hometowns and the people that make them feel like home.