On the Road

Well, that’s it. We are in transit.

There’s been tears, tantrums and uncontrollable sobbing… but I’m sure Husband will calm down eventually!

Nah. In all seriousness, this is our sixth house move in almost eight years of marriage; and it has, so far, been the easiest (practically) to date. This is largely down to:

The generosity of the Church of England: in making sure that our first of many work-moves is as stress-free as possible. The diocese paid for a packing service, in which the removal men wrapped and boxed all of our stuff for us – an absolute God-send when you have inquisitive young children! We are feeling incredibly thankful for such TLC at the very outset of our life in ministry. (In fact, I actually feel a little bit guilty. Husband, the clergy kid, absolutely doesn’t because he “knows what’s coming.” Hmm… Encouraging!)

The hardworking efficiency of said removal men: Pickfords, if you need a reccomendation!

The long-standing commitment of youth: One of our ex-youth groupees (now actual friend in her own right!), arrived at 9 and stayed, played, scrubbed and sprayed until we were ready to leave. An absolute diamond of a young woman who is living proof that, even years down the line, investment in youth pays dividends! Thank you, oh wonderful human being!

The over-enthisiasm of a seasoned mover: namely Husband, the freak! “You know what I love most? That bit where you’re in the new house and everything is in boxes and you don’t know where it is!” Told you: freak. Of course, I am a different kind of freak: a control freak, to be precise. However, it is difficult, even for me, to explode in the stress of moving, amidst the laid-back, stride-taking attitude of this absolute d-u-d-e. Husband, you irritate the life out of me, but I love you for it. I wouldn’t move house with anyone else!

Grand-parental sacrifice: as my poor, tired parents take on our offspring for two whole days  (and nights!) to give us thirty hours child-free to get this new house nailed! (Figuratively speaking, of course!). We are so thankful: what a huge difference this will make! I’ll have my photo wall back up in no time!

Government-funded Preschool: That meant Tinker was occupied, fed, happy and settled for the best part of the day!

The easy-going support of- unquestionably- the best neighbours anyone could ask for: From the lovely pregnant lady next door, who took Toddler for over two hours while we cleaned; to the usual car park crew, supervising one last playtime, while we finished up. 

It is largely down to these neighbours that this “easy” move is, by far, the most emotionally difficult to date. Saying goodbye to my family- and especially my grandad- broke my heart; but, whilst I’ll (hopefully!) see them again, saying goodbye to this unique, loving, and soon-to-be-disbanded community absolutely tore it to pieces! Over the past two years especially, we have enjoyed open doors, (fridges, cupboards and toy boxes!). Our kids have run in and out of one another’s houses; we’ve shared nursery runs, late night drinks in the sun… and the children have yet to hear anyone swear! And I knew this afternoon, while I watched their final play, that whilst our new house maybe nice and old friends a decent drive away…  we will never live anywhere quite like this again; and no street will ever be the same!

So driving away, I’m thankful to God, for the opportunity and the call.  While residential training doesn’t work for everyone- we’ve honestly had a ball! There’s a lot to be said for what comes next; starting work and moving on. But tonight all I know is I just left my home.. and a large chunk of my heart… in Durham! 

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