Leaving for college turns a lot of things on their head. For one, home as you've come to know it becomes a much cloudier term. For months at a time, you spend your days in a different town, with different people, and a different place to call home. Then, during breaks and summer, you return to your first home. Eventually, the lines become blurry and the inevitable slip occurs: you're talking to your parents and you call a different place home. It seems so small, but it means so much more.

A few weeks ago, I went home for the day to visit my friend who had come to town. It was that day that my world seemed to stop for a moment. My dad sat me down and told me he had some bad news; he was being transferred back to the Houston area. Immediately, I began to think of all that I was going to lose. No longer would I be coming back to the town and house I had grown to love over the past 10 years. My best friend wouldn't live 2 streets over. My family would be 10 hours away, not a mere hour and a half. Most importantly, I would be going back to the place where everything seemed to fall apart. In roughly two short months, I stood to lose everything I'd grown to love.

But then I started thinking, and I mean really thinking. It was so easy to jump headfirst into my own personal pity party and focus on all the things that would change in a negative way. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to look forward to. You see, there's a silver lining to everything, and I truly believe that God doesn't give anyone more than they can handle. So now I look forward to this new adventure. I look forward to the house hunting, making new friends and connecting with old ones, and exploring new parts of the city I had called home at one point. Now, I realize home is less about a physical location and more about who I'm with, no matter how cheesy it might sound.

Change can be scary, and I've never been a huge fan of it, but you can't grow if you remain the same.