Memoir of a time in a town: Belonging

(The final post in a six part series about our time in the country)

October 2019

I feel like a child and I feel like I’m home. I feel like I belong.

As much as anyone can feel they belong in a town that isn’t truly theirs.

I suppose I don’t actually belong in the traditional sense in that I wasn’t born here and worse yet – having moved here and put down some roots – we abruptly left to answer other callings.

Continue reading Memoir of a time in a town: Belonging

Memoir of a time in a town: Blue, yellow, red

March 2018

My heart is breaking.

I am going to miss this place so very much.

These big blue skies. A massive happy expanse stretched out high above, day by day. Bright, brilliant and blue. So very blue.

Continue reading Memoir of a time in a town: Blue, yellow, red

Memoir of a time in a town: A parched land

September 2017

The winter here seems so long; the ground so dry and bleached.
I am not used staring at yellowed grass and dormant plants for so many months on end.

I suppose it is no coincidence that, in this harsher landscape, I have first seen and felt the harsher side of life.

Continue reading Memoir of a time in a town: A parched land

Memoir of a time in a town: Flourishing

(A six part series on our recent time in the country)

February 2017

This town has been a refuge: a place to stop and be; a place to grow and gain bearings; to be reconciled to God and to each other; paving the way for new beginnings.

It hasn’t looked like that: day-to-day it’s just been a long, hard slog. Sickness, injury, infertility, isolation.

And yet, here, in this strange hideaway, here we have not diminished but truly, we have grown.

Though it feels as if we have failed – again and again – there is an undeniable prevailing and potential perhaps for flourishing here, yes, even flourishing. For, God’s Holy Spirit is remarkable, to be sure!

We fly away…

Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away. Psalm 90:10

His death sent visceral shockwaves through our community. Ripples of grief spread through every generation of this town as old tears were shed with new ones.

I did not know him personally, this strapping young man, but only of him and his young sister who attends the school I work at. It was in support of her and our school staff and simply as a member of the community that I attended his funeral.

Continue reading We fly away…