Splash

It's been such a busy few weeks. Starting with school hols and prep for a work week-long conference, then the conference itself, then hosting for two weeks while still doing school hols AND a small girl's 11th birthday party, birthday and then school cupcakes. A deep living of life with and then saying goodbye to a very dear friend. Celebrating and mourning the birthday of a young man who was, but now is (whole) in eternity. Followed by another four days of hosting and touring CT. Pack in site visits up north, glimpses of wild flowers dotting the West Coast, heartbreaking and heartwarming stories and several newsletters, a star-studded new website, minutes, salty moments of resourcing and attempting to learn a clicky language. Oh, and teacher meetings to resolve unpleasantness at school and reconstituting a geog book for the THIRD time this year. And two books to edit: one on a life in farming and the other on surviving a war of the nastiest kind.

Today is the first day to sit down at my screen and contemplate for over a month. To offer back, in silence, the many God-moments and connections of the past 6 weeks.) And yes, I should have typed in "six". It's better English.)

I am, frankly, really tired. Bone weary. A bit sniffy as I fight off the cold that is trying to sneak around my defences.

I am also more in love with my man who has unselfishly and at really great personal cost (he'd deny this) unwaveringly supported me by helping with kids, meals, ensuring our family and life is running mostly smoothly while I jet around the Western Cape and keep balls in the air. Golden balls, with hope written on them, but still juggling.

God, I am holding this space for you. Today. This pause, this contemplation, this moment suspended in air as I have launched into the air of today but have not yet splashed down into the seas of life and my city and my nation and my work.

Let your love fill me. May I be held by grace.

Splash.