It's like homesickness, but it can't be traced to a specific place. It's all about the people.

I've been missing a lot of people lately. I start to complain about living so far away from home. Jealous feelings rise up when other people get to go home to see their friends and families. And my home doesn't even encompass everyone I miss.

And yet, there's an easy answer, one that flips all of these feelings upside down. I'm missing people all over the country--scratch that--all over the world. And I miss these people because I met these people. I am blessed.

I'd rather live every day of my life missing people than forsake the experiences that introduced me to them. If I hadn't gone to Italy and Greece, I wouldn't be missing people. If I hadn't come to Nashville for college, I wouldn't be missing people. If I hadn't gone to Greece a second time, I wouldn't be missing people. If I hadn't studied for a semester at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland, I wouldn't be missing people.

You know what? This sacrifice, feeling like my heart is pulled daily in a hundred directions, is totally worth it.

And I think these people miss me, too.

Now if only I remember this tomorrow.

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