Friday, 27 May 2016

3 years on

Facebook reminded me that it's been nearly 3 years since we moved.

Is it weird that it doesn't seem significant? But I sort of want to remind myself that it is.

Because 3 years ago I was a ballet and French teacher. Malcolm was working at a waste water company. We lived in the teeny tiny flat that I moved into in 2011. I drove my maroon golf and Malcolm his blue fiat. On the day we left, poor fiat was at the garage being repaired after a rather tedious towing episode, ending with the bar loosening and me leaving Malcolm behind with only a block to go. We'd hang out at the mall and go to Fego to look at books and drink macadamia flavoured milkshakes. Caramel dipped cones were our standard order at Steers. We'd rent videos from college road and sprinkle our popcorn with the salt sachet left over from the cinema. I'd hang my laundry outside where it would dry in a couple hours. unless a storm blew over. We'd use a string mop to clean the floors and fling the windows wide open. I'd go grocery shopping and buy cornflakes and Chelsea buns and Simba chips. And instant coffee powder. We'd attend church on the other side of town, and hang out afterwards for coffee. The evening service was a good way to end the weekend. We'd drive home and put the car lights on bright as we approached the electric gate, peer around and hope we'd be safe. We'd lock and close curtains. Family was always so close by and a weekend visit would usually involve dogs and cake and grandparents and hugs.

Oh man, life really was different. Not better and not worse. But I forget how different. On the anniversary of our move, we'll be in the Czech republic at a conference for international student ministry... Not at all what I pictured 3 years ago when my eyes welled up with tears as the plane lifted off the tarmac.

But something that really hasn't changed? My belief that we're exactly where God wants us. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it. Sometimes I feel like punching Malcolm in the shoulder and shouting 'why did you make us come here?!' Sometimes I'm impatient and restless. Sometimes I feel like our dreams are so very unattainable. Sometimes I long for 'average', 'comfortable', 'stable'... and sometimes life seems to be exactly that. Or less. Sometimes that's comforting, and sometimes it feels like a bad fit. Sometimes it feels like we're 'stuck' yet 'passing through' and waiting for life to begin.

But then I remember how big and faithful and loving and omnipotent and forgiving and just our God is. That His ways aren't our ways, and that He'll make our path straight. That the safest and most adventurous place is in His hands and in His will.

So, 3 years in Germany, many experiences behind us, and many to come. And one BIG God.

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