Can’t Go Home Again?

After 30 plus years I recently returned to the land of my birth. Anyone who has lived far from home understands that a piece of oneself remains in that place where ones identity was shaped and formed.

Growing up in New England, Rhode Island specifically, I realized in my early 20’s that I needed to move away. I realized that I needed to stretch myself without the parameters of that which was familiar. I’m glad I left.

For the next 30 plus years I lived in Montana, California, Ohio and for the last 20 years in Oregon. Each place I have enjoyed and learned and received much. Oregon in particular is a wonderful place to be.

Yet as I got older I realized that there was a deep call from within me calling me home. I felt like a salmon being compelled to swim back to the tributary that gave it birth.

Now back in New England I find myself settling into the comfortable rhythm of the region. Last night I attended Fenway Park and sipped ‘clam chowda’ from Legal Seafood as I watched my Red Sox. How cool to have good chowder within the sights and sounds of Fenway!

This past weekend I was installed as a member of the pastoral team at the new church I now call home. During the ritual I looked out at the faces of those I am still getting to know. The church seemed so new to me and at the same time very familiar, as if we’d known each other for a longtime.

Several family members joined my wife and me at church. My Mom, Millie at age 91, my Aunt Evelyn in her mid 90’s, both wonderfully engaged with life, my cousin Tom and his wife Doreen who are family but also good friends.

Harrop Family around the table.
Harrop Family around the table.

That afternoon, after the ritual of installation, I sat with my family around the table in our new (old) home-built in 1806. We talked over dessert and marveled that after being away for so long that we were back together.

I’m glad I left. I wouldn’t have become who I am without that time away. Yet it is good to be back. Many years ago in California I was feeling homesick. A church musician sang me a song entitled ‘He came along with me’. The song reminds us that wherever we go God goes with us.

The Good News is that whether we stay or go, that wherever we are, our God accompanies us. It is humbling and reassuring to know that God was and is in Rhode Island, Montana, California, Ohio, Oregon, Massachusetts and everywhere else.

Now I am back in New England the region of my birth. But I know that I’ve always been at home with that Holy Source that brought me/us into being and to whom I/we will all one day return. As surely as the salmon swims home.

9 thoughts on “Can’t Go Home Again?

  1. Larry Sims

    Kent, it is always great hearing from you. Your thoughts of home are well placed. We visited my mom (93) this past weekend.

    Where you have been, where you are and where you are going teams I with us.

    Peace!
    Larry

  2. I’m going home to see my Mom next month and I know that there’s always a part of me that wants to stay, rather than return to Oregon. However, I am glad to know that God has placed me where I am for a reason and that He’s with me wherever I am. Thanks for the reminder!

  3. Don

    Nice piece Kent, one that struck a cord with me. We have had discussions about this in the past, the call of home never seems to be far from the surface. Glad all has worked out so well for you and Tricia, and I am quite jealous of your proximity to Fenway!
    Take care friend,
    Don

    1. Don, thanks for the note. Next time you are on the east coast let me know. Third game this year at Fenway, take the train and subway to Kenmore Square and walk the last few blocks, great way to travel. Sox lost all three games but no one seemed to mind, enjoying the feel of friendly Fenway. Hope all is well with your family. Go Sox!

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