I highly recommend watching the video for this post, located at the end.
Also, I apologize for the “bad writing,” but I took the text from an unscripted audio file and didn’t want to change it too much from the original.
One thing I remember so well about myself as a teenager was how badly I wanted to leave home. I hated everything. I didn’t even know why—I just did. I hated where I lived. I was resentful of being made fun of for my southern accent. I don’t think it’s as strong now as it was then, but back then it made me feel small. People often assume that having a southern accent means you’re less intelligent.
Spoiler alert: they were wrong!
It wasn’t just that, though. It was rebellion.
I wanted to be anywhere but home, anywhere but where I was born and raised, where my family loved me deeply. I wanted to go where I could make my own rules, where I could be anyone I wanted to be. I thought the world would give me more than home ever could.
I used to say I grew up poor, and in a material sense, I did. We lived in trailer parks, wore off-brand clothes, and got by on very little. But the truth is that I believed I was poor, and that belief helped define me. In a negative way.
I wanted better.
I wanted more.
I wanted to make something of myself.
By thirteen, I was already dreaming of California.
I tried several times to get there, and every time, God intervened. Looking back, I thank Him for it. If He hadn’t stopped me, my life would have been an even bigger mess. But that restless spirit stayed with me for years.
Even within Arkansas, I was always running—from home, from family, from the life that grounded me. I moved in with friends, or people I thought were friends, always chasing something that never quite filled the emptiness. I spent my whole life trying to get away, trying to do more, be more, prove myself, to the world, to the people who mocked me, and even to myself.
But what I didn’t know then was that who I already was—the girl from Arkansas with the accent and the small-town life—was exactly who God made me to be. I just kept rejecting her.
Eventually, I made it to California. I lasted about six months before I came home. I missed everything—the rain, the trees, my kids, my little dog. I missed simplicity. I missed peace. And when I came back, I said, “I never want to leave home again.”
That was in 2017. But by 2019, the cycle began again. Restlessness crept in. I thought I needed more. We started planning to move to Mexico.
It’s funny, though—today it’s chilly, rainy, and gray outside, and it feels perfect. Whether it’s hot and humid or freezing cold, this place is perfect to me now.
There really is no place like home.
For years, I believed home wasn’t enough. I thought I needed the noise, the opportunities, the glitter of the world. But none of it ever filled the emptiness the way home does. The peace I was searching for was never out there—it was always here!
So many people feel the same way. They want to leave their small towns, chase careers, chase dreams, chase lives they think will be better. Sometimes we have to leave—for safety, for opportunity, for reasons beyond our control—but many of us leave simply because we’re restless or bored. Because we think we deserve more. Because we believe happiness is “out there.”
But for most of us, home has everything we need. And when we leave for the wrong reasons, we often come back with a deeper appreciation for what we had all along.
I used to think Arkansas wasn’t enough.
But before I turned fifty, I realized it was everything I’d ever need. This is where I belong. When we leave home, we miss moments we can never get back—births, holidays, the small joys, and the big heartbreaks. Life goes on without us, and we can never reclaim that time.
Now, I’m no longer chasing other lives. I’m no longer reaching for more. I’m no longer rebellious. It may have taken me fifty years to figure it out, but better late than never, I guess.
This is home.
North Little Rock, Arkansas. My park, my peace, my sanctuary. The trees here turn yellow, red, and gold in the fall, and today they glow like sunlight. I have four seasons, the sound of rain, the stillness of the woods, and the whisper of wind through the branches.
What more could I ever want?
This is where God placed me, and this is where I’ll stay—with gratitude in my heart for the simple, beautiful life He’s given me to cherish until I get to go to my ultimate and eternal Home to be with Him.
May God bless you, your family, and your life.
The text in this article is copyright © 2025 Jessica Redmerski.
Music Credits:
“Love That Once Was” by Gavin Luke via Epidemic Sound
“Evening Love Song” by Arden Forest via Epidemic Sound
“Ingaroo” by Franz Gordon via Epidemic Sound
“Will You Ever Know?” by Anna Landstrom via Epidemic Sound
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