Its impossible for packing to not be a horribly depressing task. My apartment is an empty shell of all the wonderful times I had there. And even more so, it is no longer "home". Its dreadful to not have a home. It really is.
At the same time, it makes me appreciate "homes" so much more...
I've moved in with my mother. Which I think will benefit both of us, since my father is still in China therefore she's all alone, and currently my bed is covered in boxes and old newspapers.
I am also very aware of God's grace today. He is faithful.