Does anyone ever dread going home? Parents just seem to always ask you the same questions. I have always hated coming home. There seems to never be anything new going on in the town of Rutherfordton. BUT...this time it is different. I decided that I would come back when I was ready, not on anyone else's time. Usually when I come back I have to rush home to be here exacctly when I am told to be. This time I told my dad that I was going to rest and leave later. This gave me so much freedom to do the things I needed to do and to be able to have a postive outlook on how home could be. When I finally get home things seemed calm. THAT NEVER HAPPENS. Home for me typically consists of drama. Not this time, something was changing. We have recently moved into a new house with no constant reminders of the past. For me, it is bitter sweet. The old house that we moved from was where I lived for 19 years. It was all I have known, there was tons of things that reminded me of my childhood. This is where the bitter sweetness comes into play. I love to be able to look back and think of all the great times, all the trials that my family and I have been through, or to notice all the change that has occurred. I really do love remembering who I was as a child, the only bad part is that my brother was in every memory. My brother died in a car wreck almost three years ago. So, living in that house was always hard. Every where I looked I saw things that made me think back on times where he was here. It is good to think of him, but for me it is hard because it makes me miss him a whole lot. I do not like to talk about him...which is probably my sin. I do not want people to feel bad for the loss, to feel awkward or like they have to have the right words to say (truthfully there are no right words), nor do I want to continue to be "the strong one". By stong one I mean the one who always has to have it together. When I talk about him I feel like I have to not be emotional. I am an emotion person so when I talk about him it takes me out of my comfort zone. Coming home this past weekend has made me see that because we have moved out, my dad is coping a lot better. Yes, he still gets torn up but he is a normal man again. He is doing things he loves because he knows that life is still going on. For a long time I think being trapped in a house where he saw my brother and I mature, has held him hostage. He was held hostage to the idea of why...why did this happen to me? Last night I was able to talk to him about Anthony (my bro), and not feel like I had to be the one to fix things. I just let him vent. God was there showing me how to act. Normally, if you know me, I always have something to say. My mind is constantly going a hundred miles a minute. Nothing was going through my mind when I saw that my dad needed to get it all out. I did not step in and tell him how to feel or what to do to over come it. The truth is, he is slowly getting to a point where he can be at peace. I do not think that he realizes it yet or not, but I do. My step mom is good for my dad. She really does make him a better person. She has learned when it is best to give your opinion or when it is time to be quiet and observe...I guess she is picking her battles.
Coming home gave me a chance to not only enjoy having home cooked meals and someone else doing my laundry for once, it also has given me a chance to be me. Being around my family while being the real me has always been hard. I usually get quiet when I am home. That is totally not me. I have always thought I had to be Ms. Perfect or I was not good enough to fit in this house which is crazy because no one in my family is anywhere close to perfection. In my mind I felt that I had to never fail at anything. God calmed my nerves and helped me to see that who He has created me to be is flawless in His sight. He sees me as beautiful. It ultimately does not matter what my family thinks...of course i want them to love and like me but to put my identity in what they think is wrong. Having exceptance from my family does not get me salvation nor does it deeper my relationship with God. The real Nicole was able to stay up until 12:30 with her dad. 12:30....my dad is normally in the bed by 9. I am very thankful that God is moving in my family's life as well as in mine. It is great to be able to sit back and watch Him changing situations for the better. My step mom and dad have both started taking an interest in wanting to have a relationship with Jesus. I pray that it would not be empty thoughts but that they truly would surrender their hearts! God really is awesome! Last night my dad had me look up songs on the internet so we could sing and play guitar to them. One song that popped into my head was by Vince Gill....so random but so good. Go Rest High On That Mountain was the song that we first started playing. The Lord really did use that song to let my dad and I grieve together. I would never say that to my dad because I do not like to feel weak in front of him but I think we both knew it. We played it at least 14 times, no joke. It was so great!!
I dreaded coming home, I hated being asked the same questions, I hated being in the same town where so much has went wrong. Now, I am able to see that home, for now, is where my family is. If they ask the same questions they are at least caring enough to be involved. So much has went wrong, but so much has gone right. I have been so blinded by the negative things in life instead of being joyful about what I do have. God can redeem even the things that we think can never be mended. Praise Him!1