I remember when i first got the idea of moving out. I was no older than 16, i was so excited about the idea of being on my own that i was sweetly oblivious to everything it would entail.

"I'll get to stay up however late i want, i can eat what i want, i can hang out with who i want, no one will tell me what to do, it'll be great!" My parents tried to give me a reality check- "rent is expensive Grace, how will you pay for it?" i easily answered that question with "the full time job i'm obviously going to have right out of high school. a thousand dollars a month isn't that expensive". My 16 year old brain had me fooled that being on my own was going to be a piece of cake.

Then i moved out. The day came when i stood on my parents front lawn with my beat up SUV filled to the brim with everything i could possibly squeeze into it, and i was ready to go. Granted, i wasn't moving out completely on my own. I was moving into a summer camp where i would spend the next three months hardcore serving and not having much regard to where i was living. And i was content. I went home on my day off and for a few hours it felt like i never left. Then Summer came to an end. I moved a whole foury five minutes away from my beloved parents and into a dorm room at the same summer camp where i would spend the next year of my life. At first it didn't feel much different. Until i moved all my belongings into my room. My home for the next year, my little place, my my my. It was no longer a place where i was only in to sleep- no. This was my home. The place i would laugh with so many friends, the place i would have countless bible studies, the place i would i cry and the place i would bury myself in as many blankets as i could to hide from the world. But i didn't know that yet. When i moved myself in and watched my mom drive off campus, it felt different. I felt more distant from home and from my family than i ever had before. The eagerness i had felt to leave was dwindling by the second.

Then life got a little harder. I could no longer crawl onto my moms lap when i was sad, If i didn't make dinner, nobody else was going to make it for me. Small little comforts i had held onto, and didn't have time to miss in the summer lingered in my mind. I missed my family. I missed piling into the family car on Sundays to go to church. I missed the yelling of my brothers. I missed having my own room. I was officially homesick. I wanted to go back to the way things were before, but i thank God everyday that i don't have to. Through all the highs and lows of moving out for the first time, i have discovered new things about myself that i didn't know before. I have learned to respect others on a different level, how to manage my own time, how to love others better, how to co-exist with people that are not my family, how to be a, dare i say it, adult. It has been a learning experience, and it has sure as heck made me miss my mom, but moving out has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I can't wait to keep growing into the homemaker and adult that God has created me to be.