And so I watch the dreaming spires of Oxford disappear in the distance, like a memory trapped in the wind. I turn and all that is left is the sound, the hollow in the pit of my soul, clinging to the remains. It was a dream ... two years living in this magnificent city. It etched its fingerprint upon my soul, wrote love letters deep down into the rafters of my spirit. I feel like a ghost trapped in my self ... all that I became, all that I was there, where does it fit here? In this country? In this land?
"Reentry" is harder than I thought. Which is funny, because I really didn't want to go. I remember fighting, waging battles with Tim, telling him there was no way we were moving our three pixies overseas. I fought tooth and nail, praying for the waves of surrender to wash over me. Jesus has a way of making what seems hard, near impossible, become the easy road, the light burden. Looking back, moving to England was easier than getting to choose anywhere we want to live this time around.
"We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are." I read Madeleine L'Engle's words in Walking on Water while meeting for my last book club of Oxford. I've come to like brave. It forces me to have a direct line to God, down on my knees and pouring through the Word. I have a new self-awareness, a greater vision for what He can do in me. I don't want to settle for the trinkets of this culture. I don't want the things that drove me before to get in the driver's seat again. How can we do it differently this time around?
We were young, but we promised ourselves that we would do things differently. That our marriage, our family, our lives would counter culture. And not for the sake of being different just to be different, but to live the dream of a life lived to the fullest.
And so we dreamed .. .and the tide took us to Oxford. And we walked hand in hand down Logic Lane, we slowed the rhythm of our family, we rode top buses as the pixies giggled above, we pillaged first-edition bookstores, and devoured Indian take-out. We went punting on the Thames, spent Saturdays at Notting Hill, lived community at our Fourth of July Colonist Party, and cried our goodbyes in the front of that gravel driveway, gasping for breath.
Who knew so many tears would flow? How deep the roots would grow in such a short amount of time.
Of all these things He knew. Before we listed our house at 855 Under Ct. on the market to move across the world, He knew, because there is no unknown with Him.
"He knows the path I take."
He is the great known--my own personal faestnung (safe home)--in the midst of unknowns. Crossing borders, forging frontiers, dreaming dreams ... we walked the path He knew. A journey into the unknown, led by the Known.
And so we dreamed ...
Momma to three pixies, Lyric, Brielle, and Zion, wife to a Viking-loving writer, daughter of the King. My blog reflects living the lyrics of the cross in the beauty of everyday. I hold a Masters in theology, but more importantly, I host several barn owls in the second acre. We are all about breathing deep here and soaking in the glory of life.