On Distance

I think I've written that this year, I feel much farther from home than last year. If I haven't written/verbalized it... whoops. I feel that.

I haven't quite figured out why - if it's the fact that my friends are starting their "real" lives with real jobs and real apartments in what could be long-term situations, if it's the fact that my sisters are all graduating and moving on to the next stages of their lives, if it's my little brother starting college or my other little brother turning into a soccer star... or if it's just the fact that I've made even less time to call home this year.

I don't know if it's the fact that I feel I'm moving in such a different direction from people at home, where trying to connect over the differences in our lives seems like way more effort than I have energy at the end of the day. Or if it's the fact that looking forward to moving back the States makes me focus more on how I'm not there now. Or whatever.

Anyway. It's been something I've been feeling all year. Or, all 10+ weeks since I've been back.

It's also something I'm feeling especially strongly right now.

As some of you may know, my Grandma died sometime early this morning.

And she is gone, and the distance between memories of her from childhood seems unfathomable.

And my family is wonderful and they've been great today about keeping in touch and including and loving me from afar... but I feel the distance, especially when I think of not being able to hug my mom until December 21.

And so today I am sad. Very sad, in fact. And I feel the distance.

Psalm 139:7-10

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

I'm thankful today for parents and grandparents who encouraged memorizing and being familiar with scripture and hymns, and that I have a God who brings the right words to memory when I need them.