Tomorrow, we fly back to the UK for a couple of weeks.
While the boys are full of excited anticipation for going on a plane, going to grandparents’ house and seeing friends, there is also an accompanying anxiety for us.
This is the exact same trip that Jonathan went on last year, and from which he was not allowed back into the States. We have a very different visa, our return should be without doubt and yet there’s a rumbling nervousness between us. It’s no surprise given our experience over the last year, but it means there’s some hesitation in embracing our trip.
Rufus has asked me a couple of times in the last week whether we can live in this house for a ‘long, long, long time’, and I guess he’s feeling a little of that undercurrent that we’re riding. That fear that what we have here might be lost again.
A part of the hesitant embrace comes from the feeling that we’ve only been here for a little while, and so it feels like an early interruption – one that threatens to unsettle and bring a repeat of those sad goodbyes we said back in August as we left England.
Amidst this mixture of emotions, I’m looking forward to precious time with loved people. I can’t wait to rest in my parents’ rural peace, to enjoy honest, real conversations face to face with the bestest of friends, to watch the boys race after cousins with much hilarity and, of course, to stock up on vital English living supplies (marmite, baked beans and tea are at the top of the list).
Our anxieties, fears, emotions, and even the timing and outcome of this return trip, thankfully, are in the hands of our mighty, loving and providing God. And, wonderfully, we will look forward to coming back – to this place that feels like home – thankful for all the ways in which God has given us all we need right now, in this moment, looking after the ‘tomorrows’ whatever they bring.