Day 3: Far from Home

Somewhere over New Mexico?
Today's prompt is Far from Home. I'm a bit tired from having been at a training in San Antonio all day, so I'm doing today's post a bit differently. Each photo represents a time that I've been "far from home". 

I'm not sure what far from home means, as I've had many homes in my life. 

Arizona was for my childhood, Georgia was for college and early marriage, Massachusetts was for bearing and raising babies, and the formative years, and Texas has been for church planting, big kids, tears and growing up. I also lived in Spain for a semester, and spent time traveling. In those times, home was a definite place; but it's changed over time and with experience.

What does Far from Home mean for you?  
This last summer John and I had dinner with our pastor from Atlanta and our college and early married days. It was a joy to see him, to be known, to hear all about his family and children, who were all little, little kids when we lived life with them.
Here is our disorganized family with our dear friends from Boston, Dana and Selah Russell. The Russells moved to Boston the same year we did, and neither of us had children. We went to church together the whole time we lived in Boston, 16 years, and have known each other pretty much our whole married lives. 
My mom and dad and Theo and Lucy this past summer. I grew up in Tucson, but haven't lived there since I was in college. Living in Texas is the closest I've been to "home" since I was 18 years old!
This is my friend, Angela. She is Canadian. We met when we were traveling far, far from home in Russia in 1991. We had so many deep conversations and I am pretty sure we solved a lot of problems that summer. I saw her again for the first time this past summer at a Up With People reunion in Tucson.
My friend Mandy moved far away from home last year when she moved from Texas (her ancestral homeland) to California (god-forsaken land of liberals). She is making a new home, but I imagine Texas will always be home to her (she is actually pretty much Mexican).
My dad and his two brothers in 1965 somewhere in Colorado. They spend most of their young lives far away from home. You can read about my dad and my uncles and their adventures in a book called A Song for the World.
Our exchange student, Tinnapop (Kong) from Thailand, who lived with us for a few months at the end of last school year. He was far, far away from home for an entire school year as a high school student. It was such a joy and a privilege to have him in our home


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