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Any TCK will tell you home is a complicated word, and as someone who’s lived internationally for over a third of my life, I can corroborate the feeling. This past month I spent time nomadically with all sorts of home visits, but I can’t share every detail. What I can share is a rundown of my movements and a couple of highlights of the people I spent time with.

First, I travelled from Christchurch to Chicago, and my bonus sister Ellie spent half a day being a tourist with me and taking selfies at Millennium Park. She dropped me off at Wheaton, and I settled into the same room I stayed in last year as I prepared for another round of TeachBeyond orientation. I was overjoyed to see Givorgy when I entered, and there were a dozen other people through the week that I treasured conversations and laughter with from then on. Fortunately, Heather had done some investigating with the Wheaton team to make my stay more sanitary (for those who remember the nasty shower seat situation from last year), and Lindsay agreed to work some margin in my schedule so I could still support the regional team without being completely shattered. However, disability still sucks, and I still found a lot of hard things in a physically demanding week. Not to mention the work I do is emotionally full.

I still love it, and I have no regrets, and I got to joyfully share with my sending church in Denver the day after flying to Colorado that God is doing cool things to love and support TCKs through this care team while also using me in my other role on the other side of the world. Getting to be present with my ECBC family was a super special gift, and I can’t tell you what those hugs from the core team mean to me. Since I happened to be there on US Father’s Day, I had the bonus of a family meal with my father and grandfather and uncle which was pretty cool. Another family bonus up in Denver was dinner with a member of my chosen covid family from back in the OG lockdown. When I was considered high risk and the world knew nothing of this sickness, Amanda did all my errands and grocery shopping and hung out with me at our picnic table as we pondered life, the universe, and everything. She moved to Denver that summer, and she quarantined with my parents who have adopted her in their hearts.

Perhaps the first detail of this trip I planned was a day with my cousin drinking Dutch Bros in Castlewood Canyon, so that was the next full day. I also got in two special visits with a former student and former co-worker who were close enough to make time to see me. Two other extra special visits were from my granny and my great aunt who flew from opposite coasts to the middle of the country to spend a few days with me. If I have half as much sass in my 80s as these two, I will be doing amazing. While my sister’s family was gone most of the time I was there, I was grateful for a meal with my nephews in the jam packed Colorado leg before flying out to Portland for a few days.

Giving grace for my aging disabled body, I didn’t cram every single thing into this trip, and I’d only told a handful of people in advance that I was coming. I had a few extras I hoped to see, and fortunately was able to get some of them in. I also got three Powell’s trips and four meals at McMenamin’s, so definitely winning. This trip even had a spontaneous Salt & Straw visit where I saw a girl who I taught in Sunday school when she was little. It also had spontaneous fireworks from the car on the ride home from dinner as Tom and Karin and Autumn kept extending how long they’d keep me.

After church on Sunday, Karin and Autumn graciously dropped me at the airport, and Karin even kept her cool and sat with me while I freaked out over why my electronic visa wasn’t coming up on the computer screen when the Air Canada people scanned my passport. Refusing to check me in without it, I fretted over my RealID login never working before remembering I had a copy downloaded on my computer that I could airdrop to my phone. What a time to be alive.

Honestly, I hate the process of traveling, and I am so grateful that I’ve learned healthy strategies to reduce or remove anxiety at different stages of the journey. Sometimes people ask me why I do it. For me, there’s no other option. I love Jesus. I said yes to this adventure, scary as it was, thirteen years ago before I knew it would involved a spinal cord injury and an additional continental move. Now back in New Zealand and adjusting to the time zone, I’ve already viewed a long term housing option. I’ll be honest, there are some drawbacks, but by the grace of God, I have another one lined up for next week. This is insane to me that after nine months of looking and finding ZERO houses with fully accessible bathrooms, there are two options on the market the week I come home. Some would call that a God thing.

Obviously, I’m not moved yet, and my landlord has been gracious to let me go periodic for another couple of months in order to sort out a new place. I’m still not sure which of these two options will be best, so I’m praying there’s some clarity after the second viewing. Also praying the move is sorted quickly and without any drama. In the meantime, here’s a photo gallery of a sampling of the people I spent time with across America.