Where do I belong?

This is the question that has plagued me for, well....most of my life.

Along with the cliche others:

What should I do with my life?
What am I passionate about?
How can I become a better person?

Blah, blah, blah.

Anyways, this question:

Where do I belong?

When I was younger, graduating high school and running off to Africa, I thought that's where I belonged.

Then I came home and was convinced I belonged in school, getting an "education" and learning how to help people in a better way.

Well then I got antsy and bored and thought, "There must be something I'm missing."

So I set off on a journey to the Pacific Northwest to take time by myself and with some very dear friends to try and figure out where I belonged.

And I fell in love with that area and with being surrounded by people who blessed my life in big ways.

Well, but then...for some reason, I thought I belonged in Costa Rica...and so I went. And I had some life-changing, eye-opening, heart spilling out kind of experiences.

But then I came back home again and thought:: "I'm going to go to culinary school." Maybe that's where I belong.

Well, here I am now. A year and a half later. Absolutely loving everything I am doing in my life. But still not feeling like I belong.

I don't know why I have always been so obsessed with this idea of having to belong somewhere. Or having to figure out "what I'm doing with my life." I have just never been a person to waste time. My parents and the people around me growing up really encouraged me that I could do anything I set my mind to do. That I could help people. That I could change the world. That I was meant for something big. I think that's why it's so important. Because I want to be that person.

C.S. Lewis says this:

"If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world."

I think more and more every day this is becoming real to me.

I used to always look for places to belong.

I would call myself a Missionary or a Chef.
I would define myself in some way, put myself in some box that was easy to explain to people.
I wanted to associate myself with a place or a vocation because it was easier. Because then I wouldn't get weird looks from people or exasperated sighs when I tried to explain what I've been doing for the past five years of my life.

I'm finally started to feel like I don't need to be defined anymore.

I don't need to belong, because I don't.
There's my answer.