When you feel at home

There have been places in my life where I just knew I belonged there at that time.

When I was a senior in high school BYU invited me to come up for a weekend and check them out. On the Friday afternoon we kind of had some free time, and I ended up sitting on the big stair case under the bell tower. I just knew I needed to be at BYU. When my mom picked me up Saturday night she said she could see it in me that not all of me would be going home. It made the rest of my senior year very hard because I knew I was supposed to be at BYU. My mom said she saw the exact same thing in my brother and sister when they visited the universities they ended up at.

I was having a hard time adjusting to Brasil till one day when I was walking around the town on the beach I was in. The ocean was to the East, and huge mountains to the West. And I just know the land loved me, that this was the place I was supposed to be in.

When I interviewed at the school I’m at, and even more so when I went back for the first time after being told I had the job, that place was part of my heart that had always been calling to me.

There is no other place I could’ve moved to after college than where I’m at right now, my small apartment, and been so happy. This is my place.

I have felt that way a lot. I can also tell when it is time to move on, when some other place is calling me “home.” I’m starting to hear that faint call again. I belong where I am right now, for the moment, but soon I will need to find my next “soul-place.”