I never thought I would call Florida home. As a kid, Florida was just a weird hot place with big theme parks. Not my dream world in any sense. But I don’t know many people who have lives that turned out just the way they expected, so I guess I shouldn’t have been quite so surprised when the call came. We knew God was clearly leading us to Florida 15 years ago, but it still felt surreal to have palm trees in my backyard. The beach helped.
For years I struggled with feeling like we didn’t belong here. It made it harder that we weren’t the only ones. Florida is a weed-out state: a lot people come, literally can’t take the heat, and leave after a couple years. We knew we were here for the long haul, but it was still emotionally draining to hear friends complain. It’s true. Florida is hot a lot of the year, and it is very different than almost any other state in the U.S. It’s a big adjustment on almost any level. Fall was the hardest season for me. Lighting a fall candle when it was 90 degrees outside felt more insulting than helpful. My sweaters languished in storage.
But there were bigger truths in play. I have lived in multiple states in the US, as well as short term stints abroad, and none of those places have ever met all my needs or desires. No physical location has everything I’ve ever wanted in a home. They’ve each had their beautiful surprises, and they have all had frustrating drawbacks.
It was a spiritual battle to fight for a sense of belonging, but it was worth the effort. Putting down roots was an act of faith, a little down payment on my true heavenly home. The amazing thing about choosing to grow where you’re planted is that it actually works. As I began to say with the psalmist, “the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places” (Ps 16:6), I was more free to enjoy what we had, and I had more patience for things that still chafed.
I tell people that Florida does in fact have seasons, you just have to become more sensitive and observant to see them. It’s actually delightful to keep a weather eye out for the little shifts that come week by week: my beauty berry growing heavy with purple, a hint of cooler weather in the mornings. Over the years, the cumulative effect of noticing the good here has made me into a Floridian. A Floridian who still loves the turn of the leaves and the promise of snow in the air and a good mountain hike. But because this is my Father’s world, those things are mine too. And when I walk on the white sand beach with my friend and she says, “Can you believe we get to live here?” I am thinking the exact same thing.
Wonder and Wander 