The snow is gone here in Tennessee, at least where I am. There is still a scroll on the television of some snow closings. Small patches of snow dot the yard. Here in Kingston Springs the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and my window is open.Something happens to me when I come home. Tennessee wasn't always home. Connecticut was home before it. For several years after we moved to Tennessee, I missed Connecticut. After we moved to Connecticut, I didn't miss Missouri. Life was more of an adventure then. Now I long for Tennessee when I am in South Dakota. I have resisted for nearly two years settling in to life in South Dakota. It means my life has been on hold for two years while I try to figure out how to survive in the Storehouses of Snow.
When I come home to home to Tennessee, I breathe. I breathe deep and easy. I can feel the tension leave my body. I feel alive. I can get in my car and go to familiar places. I have friend to see. There are so many of them that I can't see them all. Most of them aren't what I would call very close friends or best friends. They are friends though. People whom I care about and who care about me. People who pop up on Facebook and give me support and comfort. People who though you haven't seen them in a while, you pick up where you left off. There are coffee shops with friendly people. There is a Target close by. There are great places to eat.
In Tennessee, I hear the two children still living at home come and go. Our little dog Pebbles greets me when I walk in the door. When I am sad, Pebbles knows, she attempts to kiss me. She gives me that silent support of unconditional love. In return for her love, she begs for my food.
When I am here, life just falls into a familiar pattern. It is like sinking deep into your most comfortable chair with your PJ's on. It is warm and comforting. It is predictable. The rhythms of life seem consistent. I like it too much here.
I find it difficult to say I live in South Dakota. In fact, I usually don't say it. I say we have an apartment in South Dakota. Or, I am in South Dakota because my husband has a job there. When I am here, I say I live in Kingston Springs but I am most of the time with my husband in South Dakota. The denial of the truth continues because of my semantic gymnastics.
I won't return to South Dakota until the last day of this month. Half of this month, I will have been home. I wish I could say it charges my battery so that I can go back. However, it just reminds me that my life is in limbo.
I really don't live in Kingston Springs. I feel alive here, but my husband isn't here. He has embraced life in South Dakota. He is making a difference in his job. He has passion for people and a place to be. Nearly thirty-two years ago God joined our lives together. The preacher pronounced that no one should divide us. That includes me. I cannot choose to be divided from him by living in Tennessee.
I will dread going back to South Dakota. I might even cry on the way back. I often do. Deep inside I will then remember that I am there for love. I honor and love my husband so I will go.
Even deeper inside, it is also love for God that will send me back to South Dakota. If the steps of the righteous are ordered of the Lord, then He has ordered that I will leave footprints in the snow. There is a reason for me to be in South Dakota. As I go back in a week and a half, ultimately it will be this hope, that God has a purpose for me that will take me back to Brookings.
The snow is gone in Tennessee. I cannot leave footprints here any longer. New snow awaits me.