What a summer

Yes, what a summer it's been. A summer of busy-ness, to begin with, and then so much pain and grief and despair. Most of you, my readers, already know that Colin lost his job at the beginning of August. "Lost" his job. Ha! What a joke. Had his job ripped from him is more like it. No, he wasn't fired, but basically forced to resign. I won't go into a lot of details here, but suffice it to say, private school politics are evil. I no longer have any use in my life for Heads of School who have autonomous power and answer to NO ONE. I also have no use for rich families who abuse their power and status and wealth to threaten and connive their way through life. A good-intentioned teacher who has compassion for students and goes the extra mile is apparently not the kind of teacher they want in the elite circles. That's all I'll say. For now.

And so we pack up our life. Not just our home, not just our belongings, it's our entire life! We leave behind friends, a sweet little house, that although it was rented, really felt like my home, places we've grown to love (our beach, Beacon Hill park, the music studio where Ethan had Kindermusik, even the cemetery across the street), and Ethan's beloved playhouse in our backyard. I am choked up every time I think of that playhouse. It is so unfair. This didn't just happen to Colin. This happened to US. It happened to my 4 year old. Did they realize they are ripping apart a small child's world? Everything he holds dear? Everything he knows? And such a sensitive boy he is. He feels the loss. He grieves, too. He's 4!!!

I'm so angry and grief-stricken. I'm so angry we've lost so much. I'm so angry my children have lost so much. I know kids are resilient, but it makes no difference in this moment. In this moment, my children have lost stability and everything around them that gives them security and a feeling of belonging. My boy has lost so many of his good friends, and he is SO attached to his friends. It's not fair!! And I don't care how much of a baby that makes me sound. IT'S NOT FAIR!!

We've come to my in-laws' farm. We are now out on the prairie, rural Saskatchewan. It's a peaceful place. It's a peaceful pace of life. We need peace. God has brought us here for peace. To restore us. To begin to heal us. To help us again look to the future and to give us hope. Hope and a future. I love that verse in Jeremiah. I cling to it. My 4 year old runs outside all day. He does "chores" with Grandma. He rides the quad with Colin or Len. He is happy. Thank God he is happy. It eases the pain. It helps him forget, for a time, all he's lost.

Colin and I grow closer. What do we have at this point except God and each other? And so we cling. We cling to God's promises. We cling to the promises we made to each other, 8 years ago, "for better or for worse". What else is there? "Refiner's fire", a friend of mine said. This is certainly God's refining fire. Another quote from another friend, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."
— C.S. Lewis
And this IS painful. Oh, so painful. Probably the worst we've felt. And so we continue to cling to God, each other, and we pray, and pray, and pray.

Slowly, we see light. A job. A DRAMA job, even. It's so far away. Back to New Zealand. It is a good job. It is a good country. But so far away. But God will also be with us there. He will be with us as we again try to settle our life, to try and provide consistency, stability, and security for our boys. Colin said as long as he has me, Ethan and Silas, he's good. So simple. But that is what is important. We are the family God has put together. And he's making us stronger every day. Boy, I sure hope I'm getting stronger. For all the stuff flying at us out of left field, we better darn well get stronger. And braver. And more confident in the fact that God will never leave us, nor forsake us. We can never go anywhere beyond his grasp. We are never too "far away" for him. I'm so thankful for that. I'm so thankful.