* This is the first post of a new four-part series. Essentially, a reader suggested years ago that I might write my birth stories. I thought that was a cool, if not slightly intimidating idea, but I wasn’t sure quite how to go about it. In the end, I’ve settled on writing each story as a letter to each child, which, I hope (!) they might enjoy reading when they are older.
However, it then then it occurred to me that it seemed strange to write birth stories without writing something about the main event that preceded these birth stories and made them possible in the first place. And so I’ve added a short reflection on the day of our marriage. All in all, in writing these posts, I wanted to honour the events of my life that have in essence created a new family.
** Just a reminder – these are birth stories, so consider yourself fairly warned!!
(A six part series on our recent time in the country)
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!