Giving Way

What is this, day three? It always takes me more than just a few days to slide into sync with the paradox that is my existance at the cottage.

First is the sleeping phase. That's what I'm in now. Early bed times and no alarms and naps for as long as my body tugs me. Without the normal start times of life, it all slips quietly by in a new and familiar slow dance of rest.

I am remembering last year. Three weeks of rain and cold and disturbing thoughts that would not be banished from my brain, did not provide the respite I so desperately needed from the harsh realities of my life that past year. So in some ways I feel as though I am now in recovery mode from two years of relentless responsiblity

This is not to dismiss the amazing love and support I am honoured to know through the many strong and gentle friends God has granted me. But the truth is that what I've had to do is what I've had to do and it's been heavier than anything I've carried so far in my life.

And it is such a gift to be allowed to put it down for long enough to remember who I am and not just what I do. Here by the water, what I do gives way to who I am.

It's good timing for this. Any sooner and I would not have been able to truly lay it down. But by now something feels more finished, even in its constant reinvention. Right now, I can lay it down. I can give way.

Give way to God's way with me. Riding down the channel on Friday as we arrived, there was such a strong sense of His welcome. As if He had been eagerly waiting for me to get here. As if there were surprises and gifts in store, and He was so glad I was finally here to receive them.

Which I will. When I wake up
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