Listening to: Coldplay – Strawberry Swing
After seven months of travelling, I grew weary of thinking about Brooklin as we drove more and more north. I was apprehensive about coming back to our friends and family after such a short time away. I felt like we weren’t done travelling and I wasn’t done learning what God was trying to teach me. I didn’t know how to explain how we spent our time over the last seven months, I didn’t know what conclusions to draw for anyone, I didn’t know how to respond to everyone’s reactions over our homecoming. Honestly, I was more excited to see my Auntie Janie (Who was fostering our cats… And I say “was” because she informed me that they’re officially her cats now and won’t let us have them back. I knew that would happen, she loves cats too much and our cats are the best cats in the world. And I don’t think you’re understanding me—they are literally the best cats in the whole world.) and our cats than I was to go back to Brooklin.
Once we were back in town though, our friends and family welcomed us back with excitement, everyone respected our lack of total understanding about our future and we felt more loved than ever. It felt like we didn’t even leave (in a good way), like we had been living among them for the last seven years. It was comforting to be in a location we knew well and in a community that meant so much to us.
We planned to stay parked at Bob and Kathy’s again for the next two months. We rejoined our bible studies and reconnected with friends, it was a very welcome change from not having this kind of community for the last seven months. We started working on renovations at church, which lasted much longer than we anticipated. Our two month stay doubled and we ended up living in Brooklin for four months. And my heart truly started to grown weary… Brooklin had grown to be an emotional burden for me. I started to question why we made the decision to start this chaos in the first place. I started to feel irresponsible for the choice we made to sell our house, buy a trailer and travel. Because we weren’t travelling at all. I started to feel self-conscience about our lack of travel, even though we had no good reason to move on yet. I remember seeing some campers parked for the night at the Walmart in Ajax—I felt my heart yearn. I missed the adventure and discovery, I missed waking up in a new place, I missed the freedom.
I was happy to start packing up our trailer to move again—putting everything away in it’s place to become nomads again. When we finally hitched up the trailer to pull away from BobKat’s and head to Belleville, it was comforting.
I’m currently reading the book, I Am Second. It’s of real people’s conversion stories, how Jesus worked in their lives to save them from a life of emptiness and searching. One of the stories referenced the Olympic runner, Eric Liddell, who is the subject of the movie, Chariots of Fire. He said, “When I run, I feel His pleasure.” Sincerely, this is what I feel when we’re travelling—When we travel, I feel God’s pleasure. There’s a surreal peace I am supernaturally blessed with when we are living on the road. When I reflect back on our months of travelling and the excitement about all of the opportunities we had at our fingertips, it’s still not lost on me. I find myself without real roots in this world, and while it scares the colour out of most everyone I know, it’s encouraging, inspiring and freeing to me.
Our last year of learning to live in a small space and then learning how to live on the road has had many challenges. I’ve been given many opportunities for growth of wisdom and faith, for simplifying homeschool and family life, for embracing motherhood and God’s will for me. It’s been a year of hardships and crying, of discipline and frustration, of adventure and apprehension. Our last year hasn’t looked at all like I had imagined, in fact, I told Luke that this past year has filled our head with more confusion about our future than when we first started. But, I realize that God had (and has) many other plans for me… Just as our verse for this entire journey points out—I can make my plans, but God determines my steps. There’s freedom in that surrender, as backwards as it may seem to some…
When I remember that I am not in control, it challenges me to trust in Him and it frees me to take life as it happens, to not take offence over not being able to do everything I wanted to do, it frees me to not have to make plans at all. I can look ahead and find freedom and comfort in trusting that God has plans for me, plans for good and not disaster, to give me a future and a hope.