A blog of very little importance indeed.

I have wanted to return to blogging for a long while but have wrestled with the age old and cliché dilemma of being unsure of what to write about. I browsed blogs of my younger years brimming with certainty and confidence in my choices and wisdom.

Yet, as I age the easy belief in my wisdom and voice dwindles and I have remained uncertain for a while if I have a voice worth listening to and if it is even worth sharing. I have become aware that over zealous blogs can have the power to crush a striving soul as she offers all she has to her children yet never feels enough. I have discovered that the things I felt so strongly a decade ago cease to hold importance in my life and I have a sense of embarrassment and humility in the face of formerly held assumptions on life blogged on the world of webly wideness.

Perhaps this is a natural progression in the process of maturity and growth of the soul. That youthful zeal has it's place but sometimes leaves wanting in empathy, compassion and the grey. We draw lines in which we must carefully colour thrusting judgement at those whose ink strays beyond the boundaries and rules we have established.

Equally our energetic twenties send us soaring on challenges and adventures with the reckless abandon with which we are incapable of in the later years. In my twenties I was eager to conquer every challenge, move, change and idea that crossed my path and I doubt I would have married a man I was engaged to three weeks after meeting and moved to a different continent for him, in later life, yet it was the single most vital and influential decision in my life.

The one whose fingers meander at the keyboard today is far from the girl who wrote pages a decade before. I am someone who understands more of my human condition. I have a clearer perception of self having felt a greater spectrum of emotions. I still look to the cross for my salvation but I find how I perceive faith and God has evolved in the journey and via the beautiful souls that have imparted their wisdoms on me or challenged my perceptions of love and empathy.

Alas …. the question remains... I yearn to write... and so I meander through my memories reaching for that elusive light bulb moment. So I shall publish this because it is step one. I wrote something. That in itself is an achievement among dishes, dogs, degrees and daily demands of motherhood.

Restless

I've been asking God for one thing for 16 years.

My own house.  The big clichéd homeschool mama dream of a house brimming with homegrown tomatoes,  chickens laying eggs,  towers of books and brightly coloured muraled walls.

Yet not just the house.  The church. The healthy church community with knocks at the door with soup on hard days and children climbing trees on the warm days.

I've asked God so many times, why can't I have something so simple. A geographical sedentary white picket fenced life?

Indeed, why has our life had to be so ridiculously contrary to this desire?  International moves with suitcases, leaving a trail of donated possessions behind us.

In this time of heart and mind spinning lack of control and stability, as my prayers for the dream bellow,  in the peaceful lull, I see the truth.

God knew I would never be satisfied. Because I never am. Life is never enough for my husband and I... We have craved the adventures of new places with places to explore, the hidden gunnels with gems of cafes and the wind of a wild beach,  the joy of discovery in new friendships.

If God had given this restless soul a  house sooner . I would have scorned it. I would have been trapped. 

Our life has come with hardship. This whole seeking the lead of the Holy Spirit and living to follow thing is writhe with exhaustion.  

Yet,  I have a globe of phenomal friends, and before I'm forty, enough stories to regale my rocking chair bound grand children with for many a cups of tea. 

I still in my yearning morning prayers want the house and the chickens and the tomatoes... I also have asked God pretty much every day to give me a nice singing voice...  I suspect the the latter will forever illude me,  but in regards to the former I ask, Lord...  Help me to be satisfied in YOU alone... For you know what is best for me...