This Blog originally started because we moved our small American family of 4 (now 5!) across the pond so my husband could serve the US Navy as an exchange officer over here with the RAF. We loved it so much that after we left after 2.5 years (2012), we came right back to the same spot 2.5 years later (2014). Here we are a second time around 3.5 years in! And we are all better for living in this amazing country and raising our kids as 'half and halfs' ;-) Half British/Half American.
But as for blogging, I think my heart grew weary from the upkeep or either I simply ran out of things to say. Because frankly, I tired even myself of 'a day in the life of Cindy Childers' and family' posts (there are MUCH more interesting people out there than us) and craved more about writing how I see God moving, living, breathing, active, uniquely, discreetly, abundantly - in my day to day. Which He can do in every single human's life. I think He's beautiful and I love what He shows me, so that's the blog I've always felt called to write about: God in the everything. A car ride to school, a sunset, a plant, a river, a conversation, a business meeting, a church service, an accident, a storm, a friend, a plane ride, simply everything.
And ironically I've feared that concept of writing simply because even though time and time again I find God's handwriting all over the place, I've simply talked myself out of it. I've reasoned: "Well God did do it today - He showed Himself to me in such a beautiful way; But then I'd question: 'But God, what if You don't do it tomorrow? I won't consistently have anything to write about! How lame will I be? So lame!' I laugh at this simply because my heart knows good and well that God could never, EVER run out of ways to reveal Himself. It's simply always a matter of us to just keep looking. But today is a new day. And each day we are given a new chance. So today I'm here. Trying to be obedient to the one thing I've loved all along, My God and what He's called me to do. And seeing Him in every day life thrills me to no end. It's wild and wacky and beautiful and until I record it (and gosh...I hope I have the courage to hit 'publish'), I will never know what may come of it.
So without further ado, I thought I'd share a simple short story from our snowy English countryside weekend. It doesn't often snow in England...actually hardly ever, at least in the south & certainly not this much. About as often as I write posts...every 7 years. The last big snowfall I experienced here was in 2011 I believe.
(Ironically my very last post includes my husband's infamous Land Rover in the snow.)
So this weekend, it snowed so much (Maybe 8-10 inches?) that school was cancelled 1/2 day Thursday and Friday making for a lovely 4 day weekend. (Unheard of) Friday morning when my eldest son woke up and realized there was only wholemeal bread to make himself french toast with, he jumped at the chance to be the adventurer he is and after piling on layers of warm clothes he trekked into the village for some "white bread" from the Co-Op. Liam is never one to accept boredom easily. But he's trustworthy (for the most part) so off he went. After about 45 minutes to an hour, (the grocery store is only a half a mile down the road) he hadn't returned. The roads were icy slick and he's been known to bruise/break/thump a few bits and pieces of himself, so I started to worry. So I went outside because I couldn't see the end of our driveway from my kitchen window. And this is all I saw. Nothing. Meaning: No child of mine. And so I started to worry. 'Where is he?'
In the back of my mind I knew he was probably fine but it's always the 'what ifs' that get us. And sometimes those 'what ifs' do play out, but most of the time they don't. But either way, God has us in our 'either ways'. Yet in this moment, I sensed God. I didn't sense any great revelation about Liam's welfare, to be honest, but I sensed God's heart about all those children He's loved and seen lost. And like a flash, the story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32) came to my mind as I stood in the cold. I looked down our cloudy, whitish grey drive Friday morning eager to see my 90lb, tall, gazelle-like pre-teen and sensed an even deeper yearning beyond my own: "God is so desperate to catch a glimpse of His beloved sons and daughters to return home to Him." He doesn't just sit in the warm house thinking 'maybe one day' they'll show up. Rather like the Father in the Prodigal son story, I think He stands outside in whatever it takes: in the cold, in the dark, with a lamp, with a gracious and generous heart anxious to greet us with a hug and just keeps looking and looking hoping for a peek of something that looks like this:
And then my own faith gained sight and I got a glimpse of this vision. All 90lbs of him, and I could exhale. And though he was only out for a brisk walk for bread. It stirred my heart to think that if I was as happy to see this young lad walking up my drive as I was, how much more Joyous is God when He sees the heart of one of His children turning to come home to Him?
Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.' Matthew 4:4
