It’s all happened very fast. Too fast? Perhaps. Two months ago I was still in the states. Dreading the inevitalbe chaos that were were going to decend into upon arriving back in the UK, I had hopes of moving back to Congleton, but had not even dared to hope we’d be taking any sort of step to settle here permenently. I only dared to hope that perhaps we may find somewhere else to rent…but after being back only two weeks, we suddenly found ourselves looking at houses…to buy…..yes, to buy. There was no long huge discussion that lead to this decision..it just sort of…happened. I say “just happened” but bearing in mind the endless prayers I’d uttered in desperation over this last year….prayers not so much relating to a physical place I needed to be…but more…a rescuing from the place I had ended up. Sounds morbid…well, it was..but I’m not going to dwell on the details…but it’s been a dark time.

So of course nothing is ever straightforward. Knowing how long it can take to buy a house…we decided to bite the bullet and go for it. Amidst assurances that with no chain on either end of the process, things should work out in time. We encountered the inevitable “it’s not happening” crisis in the midst of it (that everyone seems to have) that stalled the process for two weeks before it was resolved, and because of our landlords insistance on taking either another six month lease or none at all,  meant that we have had to throw things into storage, and beg friends God bless the Franklins  to take us in for two weeks while things get sorted out.

So last weekend we packed up the house in Sandbach. I felt suprisingly numb. It’s almost as though I have developed some sort of attachment disorder with places. Having packed up my belongings 10 times in the last 10 years….I found this 11th time, a little underwhelming. It’s like something in me was saying “come on, get a bit sentimintal about the place…your son was born in the front room and spend most of his first year of life here afterall” But I didn’t. It’s like I couldn’t. I’ve missed so many places in my life. I remember when I first got to England, whenever I was feeling down, I would visualize the basement flat I shared with my friend in Limerick. Even in that lovely little bungalo in South Africa I would feel myself missing our grotty flat on Waggs road, then after returning to England, I remember putting Iona to bed in our in law’s house and shedding tears as I visualized the street we lived on in South Africa. But even though I will always treasure the memory of giving birth to my son in the front room of that house…I can not imagine I will ever find myself longing to be back there.

It’s like everything in me is telling me I should be a bit sad, but I’m not at all. I just feel relieved. Even though we have not landed yet….and have not even begun to face the cumbersome months of settling in to a new place, for the first time in a long time…I feel as though next week, (God save us from any more delays) when we move in to our home…I will fall into a heap of shear relief…and peace.

Part of me is really scared to believe this could actually be happening. It’s like a foster child about to be adopted by a loving family but is still full of fear that they will be uprooted again.

So I’m Out

I’m feel nothing but…freedom..tinged with stress….as I have not yet safely landed.

So keep us in your prayers. The little niggles and stresses of these last week have finally caught up with me and I’m now battling a nasty cold. I hate colds…and for some reason English colds seem to feel worse. My head is spinning with many more thoughts about this move, the house, and all the implications it will have for me and my family…so much more rambling to come.

*I realize this post has several different audiences. To those of you actually from Congleton that are wondering what in the world I’m going on about…I apologize…to those of you who have been following my journey over the last 10 years…you may understand a bit more!