Have you ever walked through the woods after a big storm? You can hear the water still dripping from the trees, the animals venturing out again. The ground is soft, you find new puddles, maybe some downed branches. There’s a quietness in comparison to the fury of the storm. It’s back to normal, it seems, but great storms rarely leave things unchanged.
My last post was over a month ago. I could blame the end of the school year, or travel (we’ve been up to Minnesota and are currently in Colorado helping with a training). I’ll admit that the frequency of my posting is often directly proportional to the amount of time I spend with God. That might be part of it.
But mostly, I don’t have much to say. I feel like I am wandering through the woods of our lives after a great storm, surveying the land, wondering, “What next?” I am so accustomed to life being turbulent, I don’t quite know what to make of the relative calm.
That’s not to say we’re done transitioning back to the U.S. A friend out here said the other day that she’d heard it takes one year for every four overseas. That leaves us with about 2-2 1/2 more years to go. That’s both overwhelming and comforting, strangely.
Our time out here involves training people who are about to move overseas and go through their own storms of transition, so I just might have more to say about it. At the least, I think it will help me make some sense of this new view after the worst of the storm.
