I have wanderlust.
This came as a complete surprise. Until recently I’d spent my whole life as a homebody. I liked going to the same places and eating the same food over and over. I couldn’t imagine leaving home. I couldn’t cope with change.
I’m not sure where it started, this passion for travel and trying new things. Maybe it started with the blog, which was a bit of a leap of faith for me, a girl who didn’t even have a Facebook. But maybe it started before then, years ago when I fell asleep on a bus in Anytown and woke up in New York. Maybe it started with that flight to Germany when I was a little girl. Who knows? I won’t ask questions.
But this wanderlust blossomed when I went to Croatia for the first time. It got stronger when I went again, that time alone. The third time made it stronger still, although this time I didn’t go alone. Never alone.
Now I can’t stay still. The older I get, the clearer it is that this world is not my home. As a little one I was very attached to this planet and to my own little corner inside of it. Now I see the world as just a road. A long road with lovely scenery and rocky, rough pavement. No one can live on a road. You can’t settle down, you just keep moving. Sure, you stop along the way, smell the roses, take some pictures, but Christians aren’t exactly called to settle down. Not yet. Not now. The day for settling into perfect peace is coming, but it’s not today.
I have a long road ahead of me. It’s rather exciting.