While everyone with school attending children post photos on social media of their children starting a new academic year, I asked Tim if it felt like he was starting a new school. He said that it did a bit. Last night, he gathered his bits and bobs, putting them in his desk case and talked about needing a satchel. This morning, I took him to the train station by the beach. He has a beautiful commute along the coastline. On my way home a squirrel with no tail ran across the road. A new season in our lives has begun.
Last week, someone asked me how I was feeling. I made the confession that I felt nothing. And that was true. Until Sunday I felt nothing. I was on a level emotional plain but then Sunday was “Change over Sunday” where Tim handed in his keys for North Coast Church. We had a lovely day – a fun day, a significant day – marred slightly by the new lead pastor’s middle daughter severely breaking her arm in the final minutes of everyone going home.
Tim went mountaineering – a physical representation of the need to develop the skill to lead people to greater heights in the Kingdom – and I was left to reflect on the vista of this new season. I know I was tired and I thought I was looking at a flat plain but I discovered that I had not noticed the subterranean rivers of emotion that were running beneath the surface. In my wandering reflection I came across an aquifer, unplugged by a single response from one person that day and grief sobbed out of me. There is always grief in the leaving but joy comes in the new adventure.
In my devotional times of late it has felt like God is shouting at me. He is not but has been speaking very clearly and His words are really reassuring. Miss Friendship just came and said that God spoke to her too last night when she was praying. A new season and a fresh focus means we are on high alert for listening. And so we begin.