Our new home by the river

I went for a run this morning. I don’t have an exact date of the last time I went for a real run without a 4-year-old in a cape racing me, but it’s been at least 2 months. I ran along the San Antonio river, which is where I’m now calling home. We moved in the middle of October and have slowly been furnishing our apartment. Unforeseen circumstances brought us here but this little big city has been a giant gift. A huge warm hug when I needed it most. And while I can’t say that I’ve totally found myself or found answers to all of my questions (still praying to Saint Anthony), the river is slowly bringing new life, new ideas, and hope.

It feels like holy ground, and in fact the more we explore the city we find clues that perhaps it once was or is. There’s a spring near us that unfortunately has mostly dried up from so much human consumption of the river water, but it’s said to have been called sacred by the indigenous tribes who lived here so long ago, and is now being cared for by the catholic church in a restoration project. It makes me wonder if we dry up like that spring, can we be restored to flow again?

I started going to church again. A ritual I gave up at least a decade ago. As I sit in the auditorium trying so hard to listen and not judge every intention and word this southern white guy is saying at me, I do find some solace. You know how new christians are so self righteous? Well church abandoners can suffer the same. The better-than-attitude. But truth is truth wherever you find it. You just have to be listening. I’m hearing that I’m enough, that I am loved, and to find contentment in what I have.

I’ve always been drawn to river and canal cities like Amsterdam and even the canals of seedy Venice Beach, but I’ve never had the cognizance to say with my voice that one day I’ll live by a river. But now that I’m here, I’m certain my spirit has said it or a past version of me lived by a river. Because it is the first time in my 37 years of life that I feel a connection to a place, and it feels like the water running through it is a big part of that. It feels like a memory. Like home more than any home has ever felt.

Home of course feels like home for the people - so my parents’ home and Israel’s parents house will always feel like home because when we’re together, we are home. And traveling to see my friends this summer had some deep homelike feelings even though I wasn’t at my own place, because it’s true - home is where the heart is. But as I’ve mentioned before, we’ve been in our Mexico apartment for over a year and have not bought a couch or a dining room table. Maybe because it wasn’t urgent because we had borrowed stuff, but more likely - it’s because the place never felt like home.

So let’s see what we make of this new season in a new place by the river. I’m grateful that we found ourselves here and I have my eyes and ears and heart and soul open to receive any lessons coming our way.