...

I don't belong to this place. 

I don't feel a connection to this soil, these trees, the sidewalks. 

At home I knew where my feet would take me if I just walked. I knew what it felt like to stand in the grass in my front yard on summer evenings. 

Sometime I feel frozen. Sometimes I feel like those blasted trees will never blossom; never bloom. Some have started. But I don't look at the city from up on a hill and see green swaying. Sometimes I'm irrationally afraid I never will.

I want a thunderstorm. 

I want to go back to the days of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Sometimes I miss ponytail Zuko. 

I want to feel connected to this place. I want it to not be a strangers land. 

I want to see mountains again, mountains...

Then I remember it's time to begin.

 It's not the place. It's perspective.

I don't always believe that though. There's a reason my roots are so close to a suburb sidewalk, to a quiet street, to the place where the mountain meets the valley. 

I won't get to see my home in Spring. It's rather nice when it's in Spring. 

Nicer in late summer and early Autumn. Thankfully I'll be home then. 

{I don't know what I did to deserve so much from you, Lord. I am thankful everyday, in every way I know how, and I know it's not enough. Please help me to be more thankful. Help me to endure my blessings.}

"Lord, grant me the patience to endure my blessings, and the courage to face them."

With utmost sincerity,
Kaitlin R.