Jesper mentioned last night he’d found another interesting website when he googled my name and I had a look and nearly fell of my chair.
I wrote the poem getting on for four years ago, come June time and it feels like an absolute lifetime ago. In the weeks that followed writing it, and having it published in the diocesan magazine, our whole world imploded. All our certainties became doubts; our way of life collapsed and we realised we had to flow with the changes or go mad. So we flowed. We flowed all the way from the landlocked Midlands to the east coast, to new jobs, a new home and new friends. Everything changed. Almost all our external realities changed and I found it desperately hard to adjust. I had to adjust to a smaller house, in an area where I knew no one, and then to working for someone else when I’d worked for myself, and to a job that pushed me so far out of my comfort zone that I’d never find my way back.
A little over three years later, when this life feels like home again, this poem, this reminder of what we left behind pops up and last night I found it harder than usual to sleep. A week or two back my husband saw our bishop. It’s the first time he’s made any movement in regards to his ministry since we left the Midlands. The time had felt right and the meeting went extremely well.
But for me, this poem is a reminder of a life I left behind and one I mourned for, for far longer than I’d care to admit. I was glad to leave it, true, but there were things that had been good and right about it.
I’m unsettled, I admit. But then, actor or not, Jesus did tend to unsettle people and shake up lives.