There's no place like home

"There's no place like home," Dorothy Gale repeats as her mantra while clicking the heels of her red ruby slippers in the 1939 MGM film, The Wizard of Oz.

Yo, Dorothy with the good hair, I feel you.

If you have been around me for more than four seconds or you have followed me on any social media platforms for an extended period of time, you have probably heard me fangirl over anything about Oz. The lovely movie has become a mainstream pop culture phenomenon. I loved reading the 1900 book (originally titled The Wonderful Wizard of Oz) by L. Frank Baum in junior high. I performed in The Wizard of Oz in community theatre where I met many great friends. I fell in love with Wicked's 2003 original Broadway cast recording in high school. And, Wicked has become my absolute favorite musical which I have seen seven times.

I'm so extra when it comes to Oz stuff. I did reports and speeches over the books and musicals while growing up in school, and I directed a straight play adaptation during my stint as Drama Club Director. The most easy gifts for friends to give to me are pieces of Oz memorabilia, and I absolutely love each of them! One of my favorite emojis is the green heart because I use it when tweeting about Wicked and The Wizard of Oz. Further proof of high levels of being an Oz nerd: I did not have to look up any info for this post. Also, the slippers in the original book were silver, not red.

Imagine my joy upon realizing that I hear at least one Oz reference at school each week. (Eek!!! What is this life?? I literally cannot even.)

Last Wednesday, I had a mini-project in class in which my group talked about the dangers of seeing life through Emerald City glasses. The next day, I had a professor trying to sing Popular. It was hilarious to see him impersonating the sparkly character...and he acknowledged that it is Galinda...with a Ga. Back to back Oz references with other topics concerning Broadway musicals = happy KT.

My professor's point and cause for singing Popular was not to fulfill my weekly quota of Wizard of Oz references, though it certainly didn't hurt. We were discussing the power of a transformative story: one that changes over time and evolves as we grow and (hopefully) mature.

Seeing the characters through the tradition lens of The Wizard of Oz changes when experiencing the contemporary musical Wicked. We get to know the reason why Elphaba becomes known as the Wicked Witch of the West. In the same view, the way in which we have read scripture, experienced truth, and understood theology changes while studying in theological school with a shift, an adjustment, a transformation.

Two months into school, I feel like I am in a constant state of change with little to no solid consistency. Things are good most days, but I feel a tug between where I call home. I love my little hometown and this mess of a region that I grew up in and chose to live in for the past few years. I love the people from home dearly and so deeply. On the other hand, I am quickly loving the life of suburbia, of making new friends, and of becoming a new version of me. "There's no place like home," strikes images of Illinois and New Jersey, of a place where I have lived for years and a place where I have lived for months.

I'm certainly in a season of life reconstruction. I have been cautious to do anything too big or too drastic that could happen too quickly as I settle in. While I may never feel settled in New Jersey or anywhere else that life may take me, I have to recognize that I have uncomfortable, unsettled feelings in Illinois as well. I'm living in and leaning into the gray areas, into the questions, into the still uncomfortable and always unsettled parts of life regardless of my physical location.

Where has your yellow brick road taken you lately? What encourages you to lean into the tension and discomfort for this season of life?