It has been a while since I’ve written here and that’s mainly because life has been busy and life has been changing. I will admit that the first few months, after leaving Parish ministry in December, were tough. It was most definitely, a bereavement added of course to the fact that my dad died. It took the first few months of the year for me to come to terms with these monumental life events. For some time I struggled with my own identity and purpose, my reason to be. We had to move out of the vicarage and felt a move back to our house on the other side of town was not the option. We needed somewhere to make our new home…
Those who follow me on Facebook or Twitter will have seen some of my posts and in particular some of the photographs of the place we now call home: Whitebottom Farm. It is a stunningly beautiful location but for me it has offered far more than its beauty. It has brought such love, friendship and companionship.
Whitebottom Farm is a small and wonderful community and one we’ve felt privileged to become a part of.
For the past 11 years we have lived in a very isolated vicarage, set in the midst of a wood. It received virtually no sunlight and our view of the world was that of tree trunks. During the two years of lockdowns it felt even more isolated, but now we are once again living in a community: part of a farm family. There is rarely a day when I don’t count my blessings for the life we now enjoy. We have neighbours who love and care for us and we never feel alone. There is always someone to talk to, to laugh with and to share a much needed cup of coffee or tea with. I look out daily with wonder at the beauty that surrounds me I smile as the tractor or the trundle truck passes by and pinch myself as I say to myself yet again, ‘We live on a farm!’
Life is a joy and as I reflect on the past months, the words from Jeremiah yet again come to mind and I’m reminded that Gods alone know the plans He has for us and I trust that promise and thank God for His continued plans for me.