Here

My family and I missed each other during my absence.  It was the longest that me, solo, had been away from the three of them.

My first grader bravely and enthusiastically reported the happenings of every day on the phone, always ending with, "but I REALLY REALLY miss you. Every second."  She was waiting right at the screen door when I got home, standing taller than I remembered and ready with a big hug.

The dog wormed in front of her to greet me with his paws up on the screen door, tail wagging furiously with his whole self shaking.  He has followed me into every room I enter, and graciously shared "his" couch with me for a little nap, snuggling against me.

My teenager spent a long time on the phone with me Friday night, vetting my story about my flight problems and inability to come home when planned.  She asked to accompany me to the grocery and if we could resume our tradition of reading before bedtime again.

My husband caught my arm as I rounded a corner with a sack full of laundry. He looked me straight in the eye and said in a very humble voice, "Honey, I really tried to keep up on laundry and not have the house be a mess.  But we still managed to make a lot of work for you." (I PROMISE I hadn't said a word about the house or laundry! I hadn't even sighed! I was so happy to be home I didn't even feel one bit upset about it!) I smiled and assured him that I understood how difficult running a household is. "I'm really glad you're home," and he pulled me into a big bear hug.

I was feeling a bit of pressure to do something fun with the kids.  I had promised myself that I would intentionally spend quality time with them.  But after their hellos, everyone sort of scattered and resumed previous activities.  The house had a comfortable feeling of being.

It was as if they were just happy that now I am here.  The world of our family is right again.

When I was leaving, Anna said, "I don't like when you go away, Mommy.  I don't like when Daddy goes away.  Believe it or not, I don't even like it when Molly spends the night at a friend's house.  I like when everyone is at our house the way it is supposed to be.  Me, you, Daddy, and Molly.  And Biscuit."

It is one of the nicest things about being part of a nice family.  You belong there.  When you show up, everyone is like, "Well, it's about time you're here!" and the space you are supposed to occupy is filled with you, and everything continues.  My business trip so happened to carry me to the town where my parents and one of my sisters and her family lives.  The same thing happened there.  Of course there was a spot for me on the bleachers at ball games. No fuss, just cozily there.  I can't explain that feeling.
I was born into it.

Not everyone has that experience, I have learned over the years as my awareness spread beyond the borders of my own family.  People crave belongingness. It's one of the things that Circles®, the national project the agency I work for is part of, seeks to provide.  We call ourselves a family. I believe it's why people stick with it when the going gets tough and they can't meet their goals.

Churches are supposed to be places where people can feel that belonging.  Feminists are supposed to try to make the world a place where everyone belongs.  Jesus offers that to all in himself. I think it is part of the work he wants us to carry on - to invite people into his big old family.

We don't do that well.  Not well enough.  Too many people are on the outside looking in.

What if we challenged ourselves this week to be glad people are here?  What if we acknowledged the belongingness of our families, coworkers, people we come in contact with in anything we attend this week?

There's nothing more soothing to a soul than knowing that just being here is enough.