Modern Day Nomads

Recently we've watched close friends leave Vienna to return home.  Both families are American, so it goes without saying they should return to the United States.  However, what both families know ... and every other family who has ever chosen to live this life of being a modern day nomad ... going "home" is complicated.

When one decides to be a modern day nomad, it's not a simple decision.  It most cases, it's not a decision at all ... it's a calling to obey a lifestyle that puts you and your entire family at the beck and call of the gentle command of a good God.  When He says "go" ... you go.

That's what our friends did years ago in making their lives here, in Vienna.  What was strange, foreign, and unfamiliar became "home".  Now, as they transition back to their own country, they have changed.  What-a-burger and Walmart hold a special place in their hearts, but their lives have taken such different roads from their friends and families.  They've learned to depend on other things, adapt to new things, and experience wonderful strange things that have given them new perspectives on what it means to live life ... as a nomad.

Both families packed up their lives in suitcases and a few boxes.  The rest was sold and given away.  They start all over ... again.  Inside every box and suitcase, their experiences and what they've come to know as "home" gets packed alongside the tangible things.  A mug from a favorite brewery isn't just a trinket, it's a keeper of memories of times spent in this place they've grown to love.  A homemade Christmas ornament isn't just a sweet keepsake from their time spent in a foreign country, it's a reminder of the friendship that was forged in a new country that ended up bringing more life and happiness than ever thought possible.

I remember being "home" last summer.  When we first moved to Vienna, we brought 13 suitcases between the five of us.  Everything else was given away to friends and family ... with a few boxes stored in my mother-in-loves garage.  My hope was that I could bring some of those tiny things that had been kept prisoners in boxes back with me this time.  The truth was there just wasn't enough room.  A tray of my mothers, a statue of Chris'  ... just not enough room.

The night before our return to Vienna, I was left with one tub of "stuff" that just could not be brought.  Not meaning to be harsh, a family member referred to my tub as "crap".  It broke my heart.  That "crap" was my life.  Bits and fragments of things important that could not be taken ... again.  Things that only a nomad would notice as important.  Things only another nomad would understand.

Nomads don't fit a tidy mold.  They go "home" to a place where people collect their stuff to display in nice homes in nice neighborhoods.  A move is made usually for a bigger house to collect bigger stuff in a bigger, nicer neighborhood.  Starting over never occurs.  It's not bad.  It's just the way most people choose to live.

But not nomads.  Not my friends.

"Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for The Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."  Deuteronomy 31:6