Being the Diaspora

We are tucking the last items into our suitcases as we head southward. These transitions are always bittersweet. Heading northward we cringe to think of the cold and rain, but look forward to a summer of activity with the family. Heading southward, our bones ache for the sun, our minds for the peaceful environment, but we always feel lonely until we find our stride in our Arizona lives.

These times make me think of the diaspora- God's chosen people dispersed after the fall of the temple, nomads who must hold the temple in their hearts instead of having it in the world as brick and mortar.  It is not an easy task- holding on to identity and purpose as one migrates. 

I regret that we live in a culture that demands this in order to keep the family ties we cherish. I do not take it as a given, having lived for so many years in an island culture where the family compound was a way of life. Yet, I am grateful that we are not doing it to flee starvation, bombed cities, or economic dearth. It is a choice we make, so we accept its challenges in order to have its rewards.