There's been a bit of a lull in the posting in the last two months. I just haven't been in front of the laptop as much as I used to, hence the lull.
We're still waiting to move to the States. On good days we feel so blessed to have the adventure still stretching out in front of us, the chance to enjoy a break with friends and family, and the amazing support from folks here and there.
On bad days we find ourselves double-guessing at whether we're making the right decision, we feel scared of leaving our very good friends behind, and we worry about what people will think of us if it doesn't work out.
Waiting is tough. But everyone who's anyone does it.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
On books, genealogies, and batons
We spent last week in Portugal with my parents. It was one of those occasions when my sense of time was most fluid - three generations were together under one roof and old remembrances and new experiences were shared and equally celebrated, regardless of whose they were. The things of my childhood surrounded me, but now from a distance: I read one of our old books to Reuben with adult eyes.
We flew back to Bristol on Thursday, and drove up to Edinburgh yesterday. We're now in my parent's flat in Edinburgh; the same sense of the weight of generations is being impressed on me (and it's not just because we're in a sub-basement of Moray Place) as this is the area in which my grandparents spent a long chunk of their lives, my father grew up and I grew up as well.
This morning we read the first chapter of Matthew's gospel and had a similar feeling of 'being part of something that's been going on for a very long time' as the familiar and unwieldy names of the genealogy rolled across our lips. Again, the contrasting sense of scale as 42 generations bumped up against one dream and Joseph took a firm hold on the baton for his leg of the race.
We flew back to Bristol on Thursday, and drove up to Edinburgh yesterday. We're now in my parent's flat in Edinburgh; the same sense of the weight of generations is being impressed on me (and it's not just because we're in a sub-basement of Moray Place) as this is the area in which my grandparents spent a long chunk of their lives, my father grew up and I grew up as well.
This morning we read the first chapter of Matthew's gospel and had a similar feeling of 'being part of something that's been going on for a very long time' as the familiar and unwieldy names of the genealogy rolled across our lips. Again, the contrasting sense of scale as 42 generations bumped up against one dream and Joseph took a firm hold on the baton for his leg of the race.
Subscribe to:
Comment Feed (RSS)


