Roads Go Ever On

A little over two weeks ago, I stepped foot in America for the first time in 22 months. Having spent the better part of two years in Bulgaria as a missionary, teacher, and legal alien, stepping back on my home soil has been a strange experience to say the least.

People have asked me many questions, most of them along the lines of, “How was it?” “Did you have fun?” “What were your favorite things?” “What are you going to do now?” And my replies have generally been: “I love tacos.” 

I haven’t really known the answers to these questions. I have a general idea of what happened over the past few years, but I lived day-by-day. Each day brought new challenges and events, so I didn’t spend the time pondering how I had changed and what I liked the most. Now that I’m face to face with my old world, I feel a bit out of sorts, and almost at a loss to describe what’s happening inside my head.

Today in church, an image from the end of Return of the King came to my mind and I realized almost exactly how I’ve been feeling. 

There’s a bitter-sweet scene near the end of the Lord of the Rings trilogy featuring the four main hobbits. They’ve spent a year traveling all over Middle Earth, seeing new places, meeting new people, facing death at nearly every turn. They return to their quiet home in the Shire and go to the favorite pub just like old times. Only it’s not like old times; they are utterly changed. 

They are in their home, finally in their element, finally in a place where everything should just be right, but things aren’t right. Not because the Shire is different, but because their experiences have made them different. 

In many ways, I feel like a hobbit (not only because I’m short). I feel like Frodo, sitting in his chair, trying to write down his story, while all along his old scar is hurting him. I feel comforted and even filled with joy to look out on my home, my family, my friends, the places that hold special memories. But I also feel forlorn. Not only have I left a great adventure on the road behind me, I’ve also been so utterly changed, that I can’t imagine a future that looks anything like my past. 

Perhaps, like Frodo, my heart will continue to yearn for something else. Perhaps I will continue to feel pain from old scars, joy from old triumphs, while standing on the edge of my next journey. It’s my prayer, though, that even while I wait and peer in the future, I am satisfied with the place my Savior has me. Whether that place be roaming the world or sitting still, I hope to be content in any situation. Unless some elves come along and want to take me on a journey. Then, I’m gone.