That’s how I currently am feeling. Completely, utterly, uprooted. 8 days ago, Little Man and I (along with my mom, God bless her!) flew from Toronto to this wee little town called Three Hills, smack in the middle of Western Canada (Honey had flown out a week ahead of us to ready the homestead). My Mom went home on Sunday, but our little family of 3 (or technically 4…) is left to fend for ourselves and forge our way in this place that is unlike Toronto in pretty much any and every way possible.
We were rooted in Toronto.
Honey lived his entire life there (in fact he lived in one house from age 2 to 20 when he got married, in which his parents still live!), I lived in that city for the last 10 years, and both of our immediate families (parents and siblings/spouses) all live there. We went to high school together there, where we met, fell in love, and got married when we were still kids (ages 19 and 20). We went to university together, went on short-term missions together, and worked full-time jobs there. We brought our first baby home from the hospital there, rocked him and loved him, and dreamed of and conceived our second. Several years ago, we met two other couples that we consider not only best friends, but as close as brothers and sisters, and a couple other amazing and incredible friends to boot, like icing on the already perfectly sweet cake. We had been privileged to live literally next door (in townhouses) to one of those couples, and lived blissfully in our happy little lives, until…
God was calling us… nudging us… at times giving us the kick in the behind we needed, and we could not help but obey. You can read more of our story here, but suffice it to say… it was clear to us where God wanted us to go next.
So here I sit, 3462 kilometers away from that home, in what is supposed to be my new home. A place where I will first rock baby sister to sleep. A place where I will (hopefully) meet some lovely new people who might just want to be our friends. A place which will give Honey the training he needs to be accepted with AIM Air, hopefully landing us in Kenya a few years down the road. A place with a small-town community vibe that makes me smile and crinkle my forehead in wonderment every time I experience it, and chuckle to myself with a grateful heart.
I choose to see the good today.
I feel the heaviness coming. That feeling that everyone gets a month or two after they arrive, of just wanting to pack up and go “home”. But they say you can never go home. We live here now.
And so today I choose to see the good. The blessings. The love of Jesus that hovers in our home like a warm blanket and a hot cup of cocoa.
The cold night is still cold, but the blanket and cocoa make it ok.