Sunday, 27 March 2011
Tonight I am in a heaven of my own. I’ve settled in with my personal homemade barbeque chicken pizza (no Jets- but it’ll do!), a bottle of wine, some good tunes and my journal- ready and prepared for a night of writing. Once I finish this, I fully intend to end my night with a hot bath, a bowl of ice cream and a fresh pedicure. I hope you aren’t mistaking this 22 year old in London on a Saturday night, for an old maid… however- if the shoe fits, call me what you will!
I’ve been thinking about people, loved ones and community quite a bit lately. Every morning here, I walk down to my favorite coffee shop and spend an hour or so reading, writing, or simply just being. I often am swept away in the gradual process of watching this city waken. Slowly but surely, citizens begin to creep out of their homes and crowd the streets. Horns blow, bicycles cruise, women strut, men stomp, children hustle- all the while, I sit. I sit through it all and I love it. I love watching the world move around me- it’s as if I’m a ‘drop in the ocean’, looking on at all the creatures swarming around me. It’s so easy for me to get wrapped up in my own life and my own world. But looking out the window of Café Nero every morning is a reminder that with me or without me, the world spins madly on. It’s not all about my wants and needs- it’s so much bigger than anything I could imagine… than any of us can imagine.
I know I have shared many of the happy times I’ve had in London thus far- and don’t get me wrong, it has indeed been amazing! However, I must admit that it’s not always rainbows and butterflies across the ocean. As you can imagine, there have definitely been times of weakness and loneliness in such a large city by myself. Although I have fallen in love with my alone time with God, I still find it difficult to be without friends and family who are tangibly with me. Thanks to technology (Sir Skype, Madame Facebook, Mr. Email and Mrs BBM) I have been able to keep in contact with many people from home- but it’s not the same as having someone with me- someone beside me to experience adventures, share emotions, and make memories with.
I was blessed this past week to share in time with some familiar faces of friends around the globe. On Thursday evening, I was able to go to a concert with my friend Ruth, (who I mentioned before is moving to Mozambique). Together, we ventured to the HMV Forum to see Tim Hughes and various other artists perform a live recording of their new album. This was an unexpected, but amazing night we were able to spend together before she leaves.
The night following my outing with Ruth (I feel like an old lady when I say ‘outing’.. as if it’s the first I’ve had in ages!) I was again blessed to spend time with some other friendly faces. This time, it was dinner and drinks with a couple from Holland- Carolyn and Dan. These two love birds recently followed God's heart for them in Switzerland, where they are working with YWAM. I can’t describe how good it felt to be amongst others that have come from where I have and understand what it’s like to live abroad. It was so freeing to have a night where I didn’t have to dance around particular conversations of positions or beliefs, a night where I felt like I could truly be myself and just share in friendship. It has been over a month now since I’ve felt that kind of comfort, and I am so thankful for it! Both Carolyn and Dan shine with such a light that is contagious- it is uplifting and encouraging. They are a beautiful couple and I’m blessed to know them-- even more blessed to spend another evening with them tomorrow night!
Since I am on the topic of friends, new and old- I ought to share a bit about my new friendships as well! Some of you have heard about my dear friend, Barbara, already. For those of you who have not—allow me to give you a glimpse of who this little lady is... First of all, she was my first friend here in London. We met thanks to our common interest of ‘alone time’ at the pubs on Kings Rd. (I like to call it destiny). My first week in London, I had noticed Barbara from afar- she had been sitting by herself, enjoying a glass or four of Chardonnay at the Chelsea Potter. As I watched her, I was intrigued by her character and confidence… tourists could easily mistake her for the queen of Kings Rd. Each night she’d take up her throne at the pub, accepting kisses and hugs from countless visitors- stopping by just to say hello. It was clear that her small stature did not do justice to her larger than life personality! Over time, I eventually gained the courage to introduce myself to this feisty little woman.
Through weeks of conversations and bottles of Chardonnay, I almost feel as though Barbara is a glimpse at myself in my later years! As it turns out, her husband passed away from lung cancer 6 months ago and she is still dealing with it. From what I’ve gathered, she's had a stroke somewhere along the line and has lost movement on the left side of her face… As for the speech, I’ll attribute the slurring to the wine. Anyways, she comes to the pubs along King’s Rd every night so that she can be around people and ‘feel alive’ again. She comes to be surrounded by others- whether she knows them or not- she longs to see lives that are being lived… it’s funny because I find myself doing the exact same thing. Maybe that’s why we found each other- to teach one another to live a little more than we had before. Either way, I am thankful for a new friendship- a new footstep on my path and name on my heart.
Ps. She’s celebrating her 90th birthday in May and has invited me to be her escort for the evening (she has three parties awaiting her). Cross your fingers there are some lads I can make conversation with! (preferrably those who can walk without the assistance of a cane, walker, or nurse for that matter.)
I can't put this blog up without sharing one of my lessons learned this week! So, here it goes...
Yesterday was one of the most beautiful days I have seen in London yet—the sun shone its rays all day, without a passing cloud in the sky. This is quite the rarity here, and must be taken advantage of! The morning began with taking Miss Kat on a stroll to the post office, then a quick stop at the library (she's a bookworm, just like myself). From the library, we walked to St. Luke’s Park, where to our pleasant surprise- the flowers were in bloom and proudly boasting their colors. We eventually settled in on a dry piece of grass and cracked the covers of our newly borrowed books.
It wasn’t until Miss Kat was snuggled up in my lap, that I realized how much my heart was chasing that of a 1 1/2 year old child (a little embarrassing, I know). But I couldn’t help it- the faint smell of baby powder and her rosy cheeks brought a smile to my face as I held on to the moment as long as I could. It didn’t take long for this little one to toss her books down and hit the ground running. Weaving in and out of park benches and flower beds, she ran with freedom. She ran with innocence, with a light in her eye and curiosity in her step.
I was captivated watching her- adoring this little bundle of joy from afar. She ran and ran, often times looking back to see I was still there- still watching and protecting her. In the moments where curiosity got the best of her- I'd call out to be careful, fearing she may hurt herself. During those times, she would look at me with those mischievous eyes and disregard anything I said-- simply wanting to see things for herself. I would then, take a step back and give her the space she needed, the freedom to make mistakes and learn on her own. I believe that as often as she pushes me away- there is still a piece of her heart that secretly wants me there- to love her and smother her with hugs and kisses.
Having been her nanny for over a month now, I have pulled out all the stops- I've tried every trick in my book to have her look at me and love me. Literally... I’ve gotten stuck in the doll house, put on extraordinary performances of hippos and bunnies becoming friends, sang loud and proud into a stroller on Kings Rd, jumped on the mini merry-go-round at the playground while the other nannies looked at my like I was crazy... the list goes on. Day after day, I’ve made a fool out of myself to simply be noticed by this little girl. I watch her grow and only hope that I am being a light to her and making a difference in her life. She can have her moments of fits and anger, however- when I look at her, all that I can see is the tender and loyal heart she bears. She is beautiful, she is blameless, she is beyond what this world has to offer her. More importantly, she is His...
These words and emotions may sound familiar to some, and foreign to others- yet they are truth to us all. The piece of my heart that I am sharing with you today is much like the Father’s heart for every last one of us. He chases after us, looking on with joy and adoration. He aches to be heard, to be noticed by His children. He is jealous for our time, pulling out all the stops- just to get a moment or two with us. As we teeter on the edge of danger, He calls out- warning us of the pain it may cause. Yet He steps back, allowing us to make our own decisions and mistakes, allowing us to grow. Through our constant failures and sinful nature, he can’t help but to look upon us all and see us as beauty, as His masterpiece.
WhenI told Kat it was time to go yesterday afternoon, I did the same thing that I've done everyday for the past month... I knelt to the ground- held out my arms and told her to ‘come on’. Each time I do this, a part of me always hopes that she'll run into my arms- yet I'm never surprised when she runs right by me and straight into the arms of her buggy. Today however, I saw something different in her eye as she began running. (I half expected another drive by, but hoped for more). Her hair blown back and giggles escaping with every step- she was the image of innocence. When she reached me- it was as if time slowed down… her arms began to open, stretching wide- running towards a sweet embrace- simply waiting to be caught. I was immediately overcome with abounding joy— ‘at last' I thought, 'she's come'! She has opened up and allowed me- if just for the moment- to slip into a pocket of her heart.
I was so excited that as I caught her- I lifted her high above my head, swinging her around and around- until at last, she was settled safely in my arms. We sat for a few extra moments on the grass, where she look up at me and silently placed her head against mine. That simple, unspoken act, meant so much more to me than any words could ever say.
As I write this, I can only imagine how the Lord feel every time we enter His presence. The sadness He feels all those times we choose to run past him, on to something else. Yet the joy felt when at last, we run into His awaiting embrace. When we finally- if just for a moment- allow Him to slip into the pockets of our own hearts. No matter what we’ve done, or how filthy we are- we are the image of innocence. I imagine Him picking me up, and lifting me high above His head- spinning me around and around until I am settled safely in his arms. Tonight, I place my head against His. I thank Him for His love and willingness to share His heart with me.
Monday, 21 March 2011
Apologies for the much over due post-- I find that every time I sit down to actually write something, I get carried away in my thoughts and it turns out to be more run on sentences and stories than anything else! However, with no obligations on this Sunday afternoon, I have opened my windows, lit some candles and cozied up on my bed to finish writing this!
Now, where to begin...
As I mentioned previously, I had the wonderful opportunity to spend last weekend with a friend in Norwich. Well… a small village outside of Norwich called Matishall. The train ride out to the countryside was absolutely stunning— I spent the majority of my journey looking out the window, lost in a day dream and an overwhelming sense of peace. There is something about the countryside that puts me at ease, it calms my nerves and reminds me to slow down. Part of me feels that while wanting to soak up all that London has to offer, I’ve almost forgotten what it means to 'be still and know that He is God'. Having been given two hours to simply sit and ride through the rolling hills of England was such a blessing and helped me regain that piece of myself. Here is part of my journal entry on the train ride (remember my thoughts tend to be a bit discombobulated- so bear with me):
As I take the train through the green pastures and rolling hills, I find myself day dreaming of the beauty of Your majesty. The open land awaiting cultivation- awaiting new life and growth. The more I think about this concept- the more I question where I am in life and how these fields and crops pertain to me, right now.
I’ve been told that Lent is a time of renewal, a time a restoration and change. I can't help but look out the window upon the acres of crops before me, and think about who is harvesting them... Who is providing care, and helping them grow? The more I contemplate this, the more I see it unfolding into my own life. How am I harvesting my own heart? How am I helping it grow? What am I pouring into it each and every day? What am I filling my life and thoughts with? And as a result of it all-- What type of fruit am I producing?
In order to bear good fruit and share in the fruit of Your Spirit, I must begin to make a conscious effort of filling myself with Your love and drinking from Your cup. It’s time that I begin saturating myself in Your presence, God, and harvesting the crop of my own heart... starting with the roots- with what holds me together.
In the season of Lent, there will be a change. There will be growth. The roots surrounding my heart will grow strong and I will bear good fruit. That is my goal, my commitment.
While many are giving of specific things, I choose this lent to give my time, effort, and intention to You. Taking a step out of my normal routine, and sacrificing one thing in particular- I will try my best and make sacrifices as they come. Rather than finding the many ways to distract myself, I choose to read Your Word. Instead of indulging in gossip and dramatics, I choose to listen with grace and mercy. Rather than receiving with greed and selfishness, I choose give- joyfully and abundantly. In times of hurt and pain, I will not partner with anger and rejection- but seek Your heart of love and humility instead. I will not be burdened by doing these things, but instead- I will find joy in the sacrifice.
If I'm being honest with myself... is this going to be all the time? No. Am I going to screw up? You bet. But, what this time and these challenges will teach me is to try and become far more conscious of who I am, the things I do and the words I say. Thanks to Your grace, God… that’s absolutely ok. I have come to terms with the fact that I will fail You. I always have and always will. I will break my promises and I will make mistakes. That's because You are God, and I am not. I believe that when those times come, You will forgive me, You will look at me with tender eyes and say, ‘Get back up my child and try again. I believe in you and the heart you have. Even when you make mistakes, in all those times you fall- I will never lose hope, never lose sight of the woman I have created you to be. So—as I believe in you, Lindsey, I ask you to believe in me. Believe in my love, believe in my forgiveness and believe in my grace, for it is yours. Always and forever.’
Looking back out the window, at the crops in the distance- I try to envision them in the eyes of the beholder (the farmer in this case). As he looks upon his fields, he is able to smile- knowing that he has reaped exactly what he has sown. That every seed planted was worth it. Every day of labor and discipline, was worth it. Each drop of water and ray of sunshine has contributed to the growth of his fields. Over time and tender care, the crop has grown.. slowly but surely- it has changed over time. Eventually bearing good fruit, because its roots have been made strong.
This is my hope and plea for the Lenten season. May I reap what I sow. And may I sow a wonderful harvest for You, God- pouring into the roots of my very being and making them strong... Cultivating a change in who I am and who I want to become.
I know that may have been a little 'deep' for some, and I'm sorry if that's not what you expected! However, if I'm going to use this blog to share with you my experiences... this is one of them :)
Earlier this week was St. Patrick’s Day-- I must admit, I started my evening a little bummed that I wasn't home celebrating Ireland's patron saint with all of my friends and family (did you know that green beer and Shamrock Shakes are considered to be an 'American' thing?). Feeling a wee bit down, I decided I might as well take a stroll down the road and have myself a Guinness in honor of St. Pat.
The pubs on Kings Rd were overflowing with ladies and gents, both young and old- out to drink ye Guinness, sing ye merry songs, dance ye Irish jig and pay reverence to ye beloved leprechauns! I however, found refuge at a smaller pub down the street called, The Pheonix. Although this abode was also filled to the brim, I managed to spot a familiar waiter who pointed me around the corner and to a table outside. The more time I sat and soaked up my surroundings- the more I began to understand the wonderful place I was in. By the time I left, I couldn't remember why I was wishing to be somewhere else, when I knew that I was right where I was suppose to be! I was sitting at a candle lit table on an old brick street in London, reading a book and having no obligations nor anyone else to entertain! When it finally dawned on me, I couldn't help smile... There will be more St. Patty's Day celebrations in my future, why waste the one I have now when I can embrace it?
Prior to St Patrick's Day, I received a message from the church I’ve been attending (Holy Trinity Brompton), regarding a prayer meeting that was taking place in Parliament Square last week. At first I was a little apprehensive about it. After all, I hadn't even been to Parliament to sight see yet, let alone join a group of strangers to pray! However, with a little nudge from the big man upstairs and my trusty pocket map, I decided- why not? So I went.
Looking back on this evening, I am so glad that I had gone and am even more amazed by what I witnessed… First of all, when you exit the tube station at Westminster, you actually feel like you are walking out into London- The Thames River is dead ahead of you, the London Eye to your left, and Big Ben directly at your back. Although the lights were beautiful to see at night, I am eager to explore during the daytime!
When I walked out of Westminster station, I followed my map to where it said Parliament Square was located. (If I didn't look like a tourist before- then I definitely did now.. Trying to read a pocket map in the dark is quite difficult unless it's an inch away from your face!). Surprisingly, I didn't need the map for long... before I knew it, I was approaching a crowd of people- many whom were carrying either candles or glow sticks. As I rounded the corner, the crowd grew larger and larger, until I could no longer see where it ended. (Not quite the 'prayer meeting' I had expected!)
I found out that thousands of people, young and old, rich and poor, full of hope and broken hearted, had gathered in the middle of London to pray for world and national issues. Many were praying for the people of Japan, others for the government, and others for personal reasons. The streets were lined with people smiling and laughing- singing and rejoicing, all giving praise to God. It was both beautiful and encouraging to witness such a scene- so much that I, myself, was moved to join them.
There was a moment as I was walking through the sea of people in Parliament Square, that I felt God in the stillness of my heart saying,"Look around you Lindsey, and be joyful. This is it- the way it's suppose to be! All of my people, as one, calling out for me." It was an incredible place to be and an evening I'm so happy I could experience. I feel that it brought both peace and encouragement to many- It was a reminder of how great God’s love is, how big his plans are, and proof that we are not alone.
Speaking of not being alone-- as I was walking home from Chelsea Potter last night, 'Never Alone' by Lady Antebellum started playing on my ipod. Listening to the words and looking at the moon, I was reminded yet again, that I am never alone. (Yes, I realize I sound extremely cheesy.) But, for those of you who have some time on your hands- take a listen and see how the words speak to you.
Every Saturday, when I get off work- I walk down to the flower shop and purchase a bushel of tulips. It may seem silly, but these tulips mean much more to me than what the little old shop owner thinks. These tulips remind my of Holland, they remind me of friendships, they remind me of loved ones, they remind me of sunny days and laughter, they remind me of home.
As I was putting the tulips in water yesterday, I also began to see how they remind me of myself- the better part of me… the one that longs to be something more. Each morning the tulips bud and bloom- stretching wide their petals, awaiting what the day will bring. Much like these little flowers, I too stretch wide my arms and open my heart- anticipating the hours before me. Although it’s more of a gradual progression for myself- I realize that throughout my time in London, I am blooming every day and blossoming in to the woman that God created me to be. Thank God not only for these tulips, but for the understanding of them as well.
After reading over this post, I'm beginning to think it's turned into a set of "Lindsey's Life Lessons" rather than my adventures! I truly did not mean for it to become a diary! Haha, I promise to get some more interesting stories on here for you soon. I must tell you though, it's difficult! -- There is so much here that I long to share with everyone, so much that I wish I could describe and discuss! However, I'm beginning to realize that I will never be able to fully explain every experience and encounter. I'm learning that some things are meant to be left unsaid. Some are simply meant to be secrets and stories tucked away in the pocket of my own heart.
Friday, 11 March 2011
I am sitting (yet again) in a pub by myself… using my computer as an excuse to not be gallivanting around town with all the young hooligans. I don’t mind it too much.. I almost like the ‘mysterious’ look I have going. After all, they don’t know that I’m simply writing a blog post to family and friends—for all they know, I am the next Jane Austin, working on my latest novel. Or better yet, a new American journalist, writing a brilliant expose on life before the royal wedding. Some have asked if I’m a writer- instead of crashing their dreams (and revealing my true identity as a Nanny), respond with, “I suppose you could say that”.
Other than spending time writing at various pubs (I promise this is not all the time), I have also spent some time taking day trips as well! Here are some photos of my days…
Spending the day at the British Museum...
Going for a walk with Miss Kat. We sang a long rendition of Ol McDonald.
He not only had a farm-- but a jungle, desert, wetlands, and ocean for that matter.
St. Lukes park, a daily venture of ours.
The market at Duke of York Square- everything is fresh and smells amazing.
Taking a break in the park!
Making lunch and having a date on the patio!
Exploring South Kensington on my walk home from church!
And finally... Home sweet home
I think I may or may not have hit my limit for photos in one blog-- however, there will be plenty more to come! I am taking the train this weekend to visit a friend in Norwich before she moves back to Mozambique. Say prayers for both of our travels! (Yes, I know that I am merely taking a train two hours north-- however, those of you that know my sense of direction... you understand my need for prayers as well!)
Thursday, 10 March 2011
The title of this blog, “Come Away” is taken from a song written by Brock Human. I first heard the song when I was in Africa and fell in love with it. Little did I know the significance it would have for me while being in London. As I began to really listen to the words of “Come Away", they started to take root and touch a special place in my heart. Somewhere, deep down- a part of me felt it was one of God’s many ways of speaking to me. A whisper in my ear, a plead to come away with him. The lyrics of the song read:
Come away with me, Come away with me
It's never too late, it's not too late
It's not too late for you
I have a plan for you
I have a plan for you
It's gonna be wild
It's gonna be great
It's gonna be full of me
Open up your heart and let me in
In my mind, that’s exactly what I am doing, I am coming away with Him. Trusting that he has a plan for me. Trusting that these next few months are gonna be great, they're gonna be wild, and they're gonna be full of Him.
Due to the peer pressure from a number of loved ones, I’ve finally given in and agreed to begin a blog for my journeys in London! However, before you read any further, I would like to take a moment and warn you that the contents of this blog may not be the ‘awe inspiring’ adventures and clever stories that so many blogs these days are… This is it. Just me, Lindsey, sharing my thoughts and experiences of life in London to the best of my ability. My hope while you read this is that you will look past my grammatical errors and poor sentence structure, with a little grace and look rather, at the person behind the ink.
I will hopefully stay on top of uploading my latest photos and endeavors. (Bare with me… the life of a nanny is not all that glamorous). However, I invite you to join me in living through the moments as they come!
Moving on… I’m writing this first post from my favorite pub down the road from where I live, named Chelsea Potter. Chels and I have become quite good friends over the past two weeks, often times going on dates just the two of us. Tonight, however is different than most. It being the start of the weekend and all, it’s quite busy… I almost feel a twinge of jealousy, as if she’s cheating on me with all these cool, hip, city slickers. Oh well, we have plenty of one on one time ahead of us!
First things first, many have asked how I found myself in London and why. To lay out the facts quick and easy, here it goes-
- Returned from Africa having caught the ‘travel bug’
- Asked God ‘where to next?’
- Looked at a map of the world and attempted to picture myself in each country. Only felt peace when looking at Ireland and United Kingdom
- Prayed more
- Explored different cities and asked God for confirmation regarding any of them
- He responded the following day with:
o The first line of the first song I played in the morning sang, “I woke up in London yesterday”
o While I was teaching a lesson, one of my student refused to stop playing games on the computer. When I finally went over to see what exactly he was doing, I found that he was playing a game called ‘The London Cabby’
o Later in the day, a student mentioned that he had gotten into a bit of trouble and was going to move in with his aunt. When I asked this student where exactly he intended to move- he responded with, “London, England… have you ever heard of it?”
o While I was working at BR that evening, a couple came in looking for something to buy while they were traveling in the States. I of course asked, “Where are you from?” Their response? London, England.
o Needless to say, I went to sleep that night feeling more certain than ever that London was in my near future.
- Put up an ad on gumtree.com with who I was, what I was looking for, and my credentials
- Sooner or later was contacted by the VanTassels, an American couple who moved to London three years ago and now have two little girls.
- Prayed more.
- Communicated back and forth with the family and felt like it was a good fit.
- Spent all the money I had saved on my plane ticket and moved to London with 64 dollars in my bank account.
So, here I am- two weeks into it and I couldn’t be happier nor feel more certain that this is exactly where I am meant to be. I am living with an amazing family in an area, called ‘Chelsea’. Dana and Jim (the parents) have two young girls, Katarina (1 ½ yrs old) and Victoria (5 months old). Thankfully, they have welcomed me into their home and lives with open arms and I couldn’t be more grateful. Each day I wake up here feeling more blessed than ever and make myself a promise not to let the day go wasted.
Miss Kat- we have an interesting relationship :) I think she's beginning to warm up to me.
George- He is my ally when times get tough... always a good distraction.
Victoria- A little cuddle bug with tons of personality.
Before I left, I told my sister that I felt exactly as I did before I went bungee jumping in Africa (Meg, you know what I’m talking about). I felt as though I was going through the motions of jumping without thinking. If I stopped to think about what I was doing, then I would be overcome by emotions and fear of what’s to come or what could go wrong. So instead, I took each step one at a time. By the time I reached the airport, I felt as though my toes were at the edge of the bridge, I was scared as could be- but never felt more alive. The plane left the tarmac and my stomach dropped. ‘I have done it’, I thought to myself... I took a leap and I jumped off the bridge. In the words of an old cliché, “I let go and let God”. I stared at the journey before me and knew there would be ups and downs (just like my friend, Mr. Bungee), but I had so much confidence in the arms I was jumping into (… my homie Jesus). I knew I was protected and would eventually look back, just as I did with the bungee and be so proud of the leap I took and the ride of a lifetime.
In all honestly, I still feel like I’m free falling (no connection to you, Tom Petty). I almost feel like that life here has been so good that it must be a dream! I must still be soaring through the air, my hair blowing back and joy shooting throughout my veins! Recently, I’ve realized that the joy I feel isn’t just the rush of being on my own and in a new country. It’s not the thrill of meeting new people and grand adventures. It’s not a flame that is soon to burn out. The joy that I feel comes from a much different place than many of these earthly pleasures. In my opinion, it comes from above. To many, this statement sounds foreign and crazy, but to me- it’s reality.
Never in my life have I spent so much time alone. Shoot—before moving here, I had anxiety of going to the grocery store by myself, or even to the end of the driveway to get the mail (ask my mom). However, since living in London, I have not only gone to the grocery store alone, but taken the tube and toured galleries, museums, and gardens! I’ve gone out for dinner and drinks, walked to the park, gotten lost, and went shopping! Yet, instead of the familiar feeling of fear, I feel nothing but empowerment and… well yes, joy! Often times I spend all day by myself, doing who knows what, yet come home feeling as though I have just had the best conversation of my life. The only conclusion I can come to is that I am simply devoting this time, without distractions, to God. I’m spending each and every moment with Him- soaking up His presence and His love. Trying to look at each situation the way He does. The time I spend with Him is my favorite part of every day. Unlike almost any other time in my life- I feel content. Totally and utterly content. I’m not longing to be somewhere else or with someone else- I’m happy to be with my God, my King, my Father and friend. Now, is this feeling all day everyday? Far from it. But you know what? I’m learning! I’ve had a taste of the joy that the Lord can bring and I want more. I am trying and will continue to try everyday.
Is anyone still reading? I’m impressed if you are! For those of you who have made it all the way to the bottom of this post--- I apologize for the lack of thrill and excitement that you may have anticipated somewhere along the way! Or if my thoughts are a little scattered or hard to understand... like I said-- this is it, just me!