feels like home to me

Somewhere in my subconscious, my brain is already starting to process what it means to leave Seattle. I know this because sometimes when I'm walking in the neighborhood a thought will pop into my head like, "Here are three things you've learned while living in Seattle."

It's nice when your subconscious does all the list-making work for you.

The truth is, I've been leaving all my life. I've never lived any place for longer than seven years (in 28 years, I've lived in 11 cities), and I'm only beginning to feel like I might be okay with planting deeper roots somewhere.

I just wish that somewhere could have been Seattle.

And that Seattle could have been a little closer to our families.

When we moved here, it was a blind decision. We just had this vague idea that Seattle would be the kind of city we would like. And no place has ever felt so much like home.

When I say that, I'm purely talking place (not people, dearest family). The culture of this city fits my personality more exactly than I had imagined it would. I love

the mountains
the ocean
the lakes
the neighborhood parks
the state parks, their cabins and yurts
and the way that people here love all of the above

the weather (seriously)
the coffee
the way people eat, and the way they think about what they eat
the farmers' markets
the city gardens
the composting and recycling

the music
the computer guys
the public library system
the public radio station
the friendliness - and the purposeful personal space and non-intrusiveness
the casual dress code
the west coast pace of life and laidback attitude
the non-judgmental attitudes
the diverse international population (and foods!)

I think I could go on. I feel like I fit here, better than I ever fit in the South, or in Texas, or in California, or certainly in Southeast Asia.

Of course living in the culture where you feel most comfortable, most like you fit in, is not necessarily the best place to live. It's harder, here, to see the "false orthodoxies" that are a part of my way of thinking. Being comfortable is a dangerous way to be.

It took me a while to feel at home in our church. It probably took 18 months, and we've only been here for for about 32 months total. We go to a small Presbyterian church, and for a long time I couldn't get into the music (lots of original songs, or original music for very old lyrics - which I now love; go here and click listen for a sample), found the preaching too abstract, and didn't make many connections beyond Jack's sister and her friends.

When we got pregnant, we started making a lot more friends. And then we started serving more in hospitality and nursery care. And then we joined a parish group. And then the preaching started to seem directed at me, which it is, because it's directed to people from this culture, a culture that fits me so exactly. And there's the list of three things I've been hearing at church this last year:
1. It's time to move out of cynicism and towards sincerity.
2. Avoiding legalism does not mean avoiding the spiritual disciplines.
3. God is not who you think he is (Elijah knew the God of fire and had to meet the God of whispers; the men on the road to Emmaus thought they knew the story but their own accepted cultural "orthodoxies" were blinding them to the truth)

I can't imagine that we're going to move to a place that I'll like more.