A Tale of Two Cities

The presents have all been bought, wrapped, toted, unwrapped and distributed to their new homes.

The cookies (the consensus was that they looked like Easter Eggs – not Christmas litebulbs) were mixed, cut, baked, frosted, eaten, eaten and eaten.  Ugh.

The kids, the family, the parents and the cat have all been hugged, snuggled, and kissed goodbye.

Tears have been shed.

And now it is time to go back to my other life.

Every time I travel ‘home’ to Chicago I feel a bit schizophrenic.  I am torn between loving the readily-available family full of love and hugs; yet hating the weather, the pace of days, and the anxious urban lifestyle. While in Charlotte, however, I struggle with a similar tension; loving my quiet, southern life but hating the empty void apart from those who know me better than anyone ever can or ever will.  The conflict runs deep, and in the moments between cherished visits a tug-of-war occurs within my being.

In Chicago (in addition to the constant identity I have of ‘wife’) I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a sis-in-law, a mom-in-law, a soon-to-be me maw, a cousin, a niece.

In Charlotte I am a neighbor, a member of a covenant family, a teacher, a student, a leader, a responsible citizen who votes.

In Chicago I have history; I grew up there, I can find my way around even in my sleep, and every corner reminds me of a moment in my past.

In Charlotte I see the future. I’ve matured here. I can’t find my way beyond the four recognizable corners I’ve discovered, but it is where I expanded my horizons, moved away from all that was familiar and comfortable and I grew up.

In Chicago I say I’m from Charlotte.

In Charlotte I say I’m from Chicago.  Weird.

In Chicago I see those I love, I remember how I’ve loved them through the years, the hopes I’ve had for them, and I delight in who, through God’s providential will, they have become.

In Charlotte I pray for those I love, and trust that in God’s providential will they will one day belong-to and glorify Him.

In Chicago I remember incredible joys, and devastating heartaches.  I think of my youth and my dreams and the hopes that I had in times past that, sadly, never came to be.

In Charlotte I hope. I have nothing to remind me of the things I once had or once wanted and now, interestingly, no longer care very much about.  I am left to depend simply on the hope I have for an eternity with Him.

In Chicago I’m the baby, the little sister, the mom who looks at stuff strangely.

In Charlotte I’m older and wiser, a Titus 2 woman with an opinion, an idea, thoughts that are valuable.

In Chicago I am cold! And it’s messy and slushy and people are cold and rude and miserable (can’t say as though I blame them!)  My sanctification is in real time, real experiences.

In Charlotte I’m still cold…just not frigid…and I sit in a warm home, in my comfy chair, and I look outside at ever-green trees and ever present flowers while studying and learning and knowing Him as He reveals Himself on the pages of the book He wrote.  My sanctification is knowledge.

In Chicago I can’t wait to go home.

In Charlotte I can’t wait to go home.

So often our friends and family ask if we think we will move back ‘home.’  With a grandbaby on the way I’m sure it looks like our little adventure ought to be drawing to a close and we need to go back to where ‘we belong.’

But I no longer know where I belong.  So I live torn between two cities, two unique ‘selves,’ a home and a home.

I told you I need counseling.

Happy New Year friends and family, both old and new….