Home.

I've been thinking about that word a lot lately. About how now when I say, "It feels good to be home!" after a weekend away from Wheaton or "Hey babe, will I see you at home?" to a roommate heading back to the apartment, it's not only because that is the easiest way to describe the place where one lays one's head on a regular basis.

And about how as of right now, I'm not sure I will ever live in Maryland for more than a month again (makes me even more grateful for this summer). And that is a strange thing to even begin to think about wrapping my head around.

None of these are bad things. Weird, and bittersweet, but natural and not bad (thanks, Matty). God's been teaching me much about being grateful- for the past. Being joyful- in the present. And being trusting- with the future. (And mixing those all up, quite a bit).

I tried to write a more descriptive blog post about the issue... but it turned into two hours of furious typing, resulting in four front-and-back pages of external processing to the max. Incredibly therapeutic, for sure, but not blog-post-worthy (rambly and personal).

I do hope I'll be able to condense it at some point...

But then...

The other night I sat on my couch knitting in Illinois while Mayr sat in her dorm room in Maryland... and we managed to laugh, cry, and analyze and affirm each other's entire lives in two hours.

And this week I got a voicemail from Christina, walking to a class in Ohio, informing that she'd had a weird dream, and could I please call her back so she could tell me about it because it was just REALLY funny.

And I sat by the fireplace in Saga for an hour and a half last night on the phone with Erika, my freshman RA who's currently living the post-grad life in California, and I swear we might as well have been sitting on the sink in my freshman floor bathroom.

Things will always change.

But it's comforting to remember that no matter how much we change and grow and go our different directions... God provides. And some things only grow sweeter.