Joanna Foley, a friend I know from my time in Prague (she's a missionary in Budapest).

As of 12pm today I’ve put at least 5,000 miles on my mom’s car within a four week time period. I think that’s fairly impressive, especially considering that I’d barely driven in over five years before June of this year! Living in major European cities has its perks, one of those being extensive public transport systems. In Prague, where I spent most of the last three years, I walked 12-minutes to work and then back every day. I saved on gas and got a bit of exercise at the same time!

But all this driving without having a place to call home has given me some unexpected—though not unwelcome—experiences. I’ve travelled from Memphis to Georgia to South Carolina, visited cities all up and down the east coast, and on to Chicago to both reconnect with old friends as well as share the ministry vision God has called me to in Europe. I’ve talked a lot and listened a good bit, too, and I’ve also been able to meet people who are already doing unique ministries in the arts in Charlotte, Philadelphia, and New York City.

And I’ve put on miles. I’ve watched the trees change from mostly green to black branches. I’ve seen a wide variety of architecture, ranging from colonial America to forbidding Manhattan skyscrapers to midwestern strip malls. And I’ve passed by many, many homes.

I expected that. I knew I would drive through a patchwork of cultures and landscapes. I even brought books-on-tape (or books-on-mp3) to entertain me during the hours I would spend in the car. I didn’t, however, expect how I would react to the miles.

Driving past all these communities has reminded me how rootless I currently am. I’ve seen so many people’s homes and businesses, and yet I pass by. I’m part of none of them. I long to have a place to call home, but I’m in the States to go back to Europe and won’t have a community until I fly out sometime next year.

And yet at the same time I’ve reconnected with my past. Near the beginning of my trip I saw quite a few people I met over in Europe: a few each from Prague, Amsterdam, and Ireland. Scattered throughout I’ve seen friends I know from Dallas Seminary. I spent four nights in Boston and was able to hang out with quite a few people I haven’t seen in nine years. And in the last few days I’ve caught up with a good number of friends from college.

Do you remember the show [or seen reruns of] “This Is Your Life?” That’s what the last few weeks have come to feel like for me! The only people who haven’t walked around the curtain of my past are folks from high school or my old church youth group. (Now THAT would have been weird to see any of them!)

I don’t really have a community now, and that’s an unavoidable consequence of living away from my home country for over five years, particularly since I’m in the process of moving back to Europe within the next eight months. But the last few weeks have reminded me that I have a greater community of friends and family scattered across the globe. I thought I was doing a road trip to reconnect with friends, share my ministry vision, and possibly raise some support. Instead I feel like I’ve been ministered to.

Feeling disconnected—feeling lonely—is natural and happens to everyone at some time or another. For some of us it may happen quite often because of jobs, living situation, or even personalities. But I don’t think any of us are as alone as we think we are. Sometimes we just need to remember. To pick up the phone and call an old friend. To be vulnerable.

I want authentic community. I’d like to put down roots someday. But alone? I don’t think so.