I'll Be Home

So this blog is far overdue. It’s been a while.

But the following must be said...

When I decided to be a student missionary, I fully intended on staying out of America for the entire time. I had no plans or intentions of going home until I was finished.

But things happen.

The kids leave for a three month summer vacation while we are here as their school year runs from February through November. So when Mom and I were talking on the phone one October day and I mentioned this, the idea came up of me flying home for Christmas. And before I knew it the ticket was bought and the plan of surprising everyone was underway.

From that point forward, when we as a staff listened to “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” together to bring on the Christmas spirit? My heart burst every time. I couldn't wait.

The thing is, I told almost no one. In fact, my mom was my only family member who knew. And, huge props to her, she managed to keep it a secret for two months. Even from my dad.

I don’t know if I have ever been as excited about anything in my life as I was to surprise my family.

It was almost midnight, December 13, when I arrived at the Asheville airport. Mom and Ms. Tammy managed to sneak away together to pick me up. When I saw my mom standing there waiting there for me, I knew I was home. 

And then they drove me to our little white farmhouse on the hill with the red door. I was beside myself.

Honestly. I couldn’t handle the excitement. There was just so much of it.

As soon as we got there, Mom and I snuck upstairs which wasn’t too hard as everyone was fast asleep.

She said, “Roy, are you there?” to my dad. He responded yes, and she flipped on the lightswitch.

He gasped when he saw me and his eyes lit up and I swear I have the greatest dad in the world.

“Oh my goodness!” he exclaimed, and then told me he was just about to post on my facebook wall to get myself home.

Next I surprised Savana.

I sat on the living room couch and Dad ran into her room and told her to come out quick real quick.

She was incredibly confused. In fact, she thought the house was on fire. So she came running out on her tip toes and then stood in the living room and stared at me.

She didn’t have her contacts in. She had no idea who I was.

Finally she said, “Darian???”

And I stood up and walked over and hugged her and she cried and oh my goodness I love my sister.

And last I jumped onto my little brother’s bed. It took him a solid fifteen seconds to realize who I was.

“Darian?” he asked half asleep and the other half confused. “What are you doing here?”

I laughed and hugged him. He is so stinkin' cute.

Soon after, he proclaimed he was so tired.

But before we left his room, all of us in there together, I clearly remember my mom turning to Jace and saying

Merry Christmas. Darian’s home.

And that folks, is the amount of love I felt all three and a half weeks that I was there.

I surprised friends at Southern (oh so fun), friends in Asheville (oh so fun).

Kim and I took walks together and she went with me to chop nine inches and five thousand pounds off my hair.

Steph and I got to maintain our yearly Claying Around and Starbucks tradition.

I got to go to Oklahoma and spend two beautiful days with the people who mean most to me.

I got to ride around in Claire with Savana and help wedding plan.

Mom and I had so many great conversations and deep talks and she cooked me yummy food.

Dad hosted Rocky movies in his mancave and we drove together to meet Mom for lunch and I got to give him a plane one of the boys here made for him for Christmas and he put it in his man’s cave.

Jace and I went on Dunkin Doughnut trips together and I even got to see him off to his very first day of public school.

Going home for Christmas as a student missionary is not recommended. It is not encouraged.

But for me? It is exactly what I needed.

I spent three and a half weeks in that little white farm house tucked in the mountains of Asheville, North Carolina.

I spent three and a half weeks with the people who know me best yet love me most.

And it made me realize what makes America so great.

And it’s not the grocery stores. It’s not the air conditioning. It’s not the cleanliness.

It’s the people. It’s my family.

That’s what makes it home.