I hate that I miss this. Growing up in New Hampshire, I thought that this kind of life was so small, that by living here I was missing out on life. So I grew up, I moved to the city, and I set out to live the large life I thought I was missing. The thing is, though, that it turns out that I like the small-town life. I like driving 5 miles in 5 minutes because there are no stop lights. I like looking out the window and seeing trees instead of buildings. Living here in Boston might give me an opportunity to meet people, but the reality is that my life here is pretty small too. I know people from church, I mostly hang out with the same people from home that I’ve known for my entire life.
There are, of course, things I would miss if I moved back home. I’d miss summers in the city, when I could aimlessly wander and find endless things to do. I’d miss my church, and my community group and the relationships that I have built there. I’d miss being near to my cousins, and watching their young babies grow up. But as the list of things that I miss about NH grows longer, the list for Boston grows shorter, and I sense that my time to go is nearing. I will miss this place, the memories of trying to make it on my own, but I am comforted by the fact that the things I will miss can be sustained if I put forth the effort. I’m also glad that I don’t have to make this decision on my own, but that I can trust that God will open and shut the correct doors for me, if I just have the courage to walk up to them.