It occurs to me that it would be nice for a change to be living back at home, in a community with the young adults with whom I spent my childhood, high school, and college years. One of the nearly-graduated seniors informed me that an old friend of hers is in town for the day, that he is perhaps her closest "guy-friend," and for some reason this made me wistful for those friendships that I left behind when I moved cross-country. I know they say that, in our technological age, miles don't matter, but the truth is that life often gets in the way of friendships, and keeping regular contact is nearly impossible when you have a separate life and apostolate that is unknown to those who used to know you best.
I am a missionary, this I accept. I have given my life to God in a more radical way for these two years, to allow Him to use me in His vineyard. The comforts of the familiar are not for me.
Still, it saddens me to think that my long-lasting relationships are few and far-between. Of all those whom I have met, most I talk to only rarely if at all. Some of my dearest friends from college are all but memories now, though merely six months have passed since we graduated together. I am building many meaningful friendships here in the midwest, but I am hesitant to put down roots because I know that in 16 months I will likely be moving away from this place.
A little nomadic. A little lonely.
No comments:
Post a Comment