Home.

This weekend was my Alma Mater, Huntington University's, homecoming- a weekend that I looked forward to every year as a student- a parade where ramen noodles would be thrown out, the championship powder puff game, several athletic events, Davis Hall Follies (our comedic talent show) and being reunited with upperclassman who have since graduated. I was unable to attend homecoming last year, so this year was my first year back as a graduate...my first year truly taking part in the coming  home. This wasn't some major event since I am literally at the university at least three times a week usually for extended periods of time, but it got me thinking about the significance of coming home and why every school makes such a big

My "Home" is the prettiest.

deal about homecoming week. 

Home is the place in which we are most known. Now the idea of being known, I've decided, is much of humanity's deepest desire. At home, we kick off our shoes and our nice clothes; we dial back our presentation several notches and simply relax into ourselves. Home gets to see a completely different side of us than the rest of the world because of this lack of reservation.

Huntington University's homecoming is especially exciting because you are returning to a place, to a people, to an idea that saw you grow and fostered deep connection over the course of four years. You came into the university around 18 and left in your 20s...four critical years of academic, spiritual, physical and emotional growth. That place sees parts of us that no other time period of our lives will ever see...Lord knows it sees many first kisses, first walks, devastating break-ups and young men taking one knee in front of their love. The university sees some of our all-time highs as well as our all-time lows.  We are known in a deeper way than before, in a way that we desire after walking across the stage to our diploma...in a way that keeps us coming back for an autumn weekend every year in order to reminisce those memories and encounter the people who knew us at our most open. 

These are all things that comfort me in this time of transition. I don't know many people over the age of 17 in my town; I don't have my own place to come "home" to after putting up my work front all day and it often feels like I am unknown at my deepest. I know that I am known by the God of the universe, but if I confess, I so often just want a human, a physical home to be known by. This is why I find myself making the twenty minute commute to HU so often...and I don't think I am alone. 

This isn't solely true of Huntington University's homecoming though, think of any time that you retire to wherever you call home...it could be your childhood town/house, your parents' home or that of a friend. Memories flood back, experiences are relived, emotions heightened and we are overcome with a relaxed state...because we are known here. 

I live in a generation that does everything possible to be known by as many as possible: We update our statuses, commentate with our tweets, show our bests with our Instagrams, write our most vulnerable on blogs and dream our dreams through Pinterest. We create public versions of ourselves that may or may not match up with who we are actually known as. We are then puzzled with discontentment, restlessness and unfulfilled desires because despite the fact that a hoard of people follow, like, retweet and repin us; we aren't really known. 

For my generation, the idea of coming home needs to not be one that we only experience once a year, yet one that we train our brains to encounter on a daily basis. We are so busy putting up fronts that we lose track of who we really are, disabling anyone else from knowing us...leaving us constantly in search of connection. It is necessary that we begin to incorporate some of the experiences and mindsets of home to our every day lives before we lose it as a generation and slip into the obscure, unknown and living under the curse of not even knowing ourselves.

We need to come home.