Yellow Lights

   I finished work late tonight. My mom dropped the car off in front of the theatre so I could drive home instead of calling her in the wee hours of the night to come pick me up. It was a little chilly outside, I noticed, typical for March weather. And as I fumbled for my keys to unlock the car, I stopped and looked around. The only noise was the sound of the pedestrian signal, slowly ringing to let nonexistent walkers know that it was not yet quite safe to cross the street, according to the traffic light. I watched the light switch and heard the signal say “walk sign is on” in her silly, robotic voice. Funny, how I could hear it all, plain as day, all the way down the street. Not that downtown Franklin is that big, it’s just strange that you can hear a penny drop from down the street. But that’s Franklin. Everything goes to sleep at 9 o clock sharp. I stood there and took it all in for a moment, having all of Main Street to myself. I then hopped in the car, plugged in some Ben Howard, and went on a drive. Funny, how things change, and how, as I drive around this place, the trigger is pulled and memories come pouring out; good, bad, and all so surreal. Passing my high school, remembering the countless and endless days I spent there, football games, plays, hard work, lunch, homecoming, exams, and everything in between. Passing neighborhoods where my friends lived, in houses where we stayed up nights, giggling, crying, and doing makeovers, watching movies, killing time. Driving down roads I’ve taken a thousand times, passing under lights blinking yellow, laughing at how that was once the reminder that I was out past curfew and likely to be reprimanded or even grounded upon my tardy return home. But it’s funny, how taking those long, narrow and windy back roads now remind me of New Zealand. How, once a fair distance from the town lights, I can see the stars, so much more vivid and bright in the New Zealand sky. I love home so much, it’s such a huge part of who God has made me – but I also carry a piece of New Zealand in my heart here. Oh how I long to see the clear, blue ocean and those amazing green rolling hills! How I miss the sheer rock and rivers and constantly changing landscape! But I am determined to grow here at home as well! My momma has always said “You gotta bloom where you’re planted” and I know I’m planted here right now. I won’t deny that I can’t wait to be on Kiwi soil again, but I’m gonna soak up this Tennessee sun and enjoy where He’s got me, because I don’t wanna look back and realize how much I missed because my heart was in the wrong place.

Peace out girl scout.