10 years

Today I realized that in August, it will be 10 years since I moved back to the US from Zambia. 10 years. 10 YEARS! How did this happen?
I recently talked to an MK that is in the states for a few months and going to our church, and he said he was born on deputation and had never been in the US for more than three months at a time. He's not used to it here. He just graduated high school, but he's going back to Argentina for another year. Why is this? Most people would ask, "why aren't you coming back HOME?". He is, he's going back to Argentina!
I think the biggest thing that most MK's would want people to understand is that you need to stop telling them where "home" is! They've grown up knowing two different places as home...where home really is and where other people call home is. And when they are forced to leave their real home, they realize that home is where your family is.
When I moved back to the US 10 years ago I lived with my sister, after a year, I moved in with my other sister....then shortly afterthat, I got married. Home became wherever I was welcomed and loved. I hated living in the US, I hated being asked if I was happy to be back 'home'. I missed my house, my friends, my parents. I couldn't just go visit when I wanted. I couldn't even pick up the phone and call without spending money for a phone cards and calculating the time difference. Home was an elusive place and I had to choose to bloom where God had planted me.
I still couldn't tell you where "home" really is. I just know I choose to make home people, not a place.
10 years. I just can't get over that. And I don't understand why it makes me want to cry.