Change of Scene

It's not really a holiday when you've got a young family in tow, but a week away, a change of scene. Where holidays are concerned some level of relaxation is expected, a little more sleep, and some relief from the grind of work and everyday life.  

But then again, a holiday presents the opportunity to explore somewhere new, have different experiences, and see things you've wanted to see for a long time...

And things you never expected to see. 

It's the chance to have an adventure with the people you love the most, and ultimately, when you look back these are the things you'll remember. 

Not the oppressive heat and humidity, the hours spent each night trying to settle restless children, nor their agonising wake up call by six each morning. Not even your camera bouncing down a flight of ancient steps.

But Moth's excitement as he climbed to the top of the castle tower (twice), and Ever's determination to walk forever. Those moments of tranquility and elation, brief, yet profound when Sewel and I chose to embrace them. 

And of course, there is the relief to be back home again, even though it won't be home for much longer. 

Soon

It came to me as a whisper, one morning at work while I was praying silently. A single word, but one that brought so much calm and comfort, quietening the tumult of emotion that had threatening to overwhelm me. 

This came shortly after the flawless rainbow that arched over us one evening as we were driving home. The rainbow of God's promise. 

For so long we had been pursuing a dream, but following a long period of activity, we had reached a stage of transition and waiting, a time of hope and disappointment in quick succession. Waiting has never been a strong point of mine, especially in situations that lie beyond my control. 

I went about my daily activities and tried not to dream too much. I didn't dare to envisage a new life ahead, because I knew it could so easily be someone else's life and not mine. I refrained from furnishing our desired home in my head because tomorrow it could have been claimed by someone else. 

Instead, I pictured it as it was last September, when we saw it, those empty rooms I so long to fill with our life, our life that is currently decanted into boxes shared between a shipping container and the discreet little nooks in our current place. The place I've never quite thought of as home. 

That morning I was given a time-scale of sorts. Though non-specific, I knew that the days of waiting, hoping, praying were numbered, and that an outcome would shortly be fulfilled. 

You may note that I write this in the past tense.  

The wisest words are whispered.