Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today . . .

So I went to America.

Where I felt homeless. Especially at Walmart, where there are entirely too many choices. And especially at Starbucks, where you can order coffee on your smart phone; you don’t even have to stand in line.

And I felt at home. Especially at my mom’s house and with my very closest friends.

Then I came back to Cambodia.

Where I also felt at home. Especially during descent, when I looked out the airplane window to glimpse first the rice fields, and then those striking colored roofs. And I exhaled, declaring it the most beautiful sight in the world.

Then I marveled, how is this possible? How can two such different places feel like home? How can I feel at home in a place so different from my upbringing? And how can the place I grew up sometimes not feel like home?

Finish reading here.