As Jo and I were driving the other night to the Mayor's Ball, he in his tuxedo and I in my ballgown, we just began to laugh as we thought back to nearly 7 months ago when we stepped off the airplane into an unknown life with no plans, no job, just a knowledge that God has said to us "go". We have always prayed that God would put us into situations that if He didn't show up and do something big, we would be made to look like fools. This has been one of those times in our lives and God has once again proven Himself faithful.
Jo has been made captain of Stockport County Football club and signed on for another year. We have a wonderful church where I can play the piano and sing for worship and Jo and I can work with the youth. We have good friends and wonderful family.
Yet through all of this, there are times when my heart still cries out for home. I miss driving on the right (and correct) side of the road, hearing a good old southern drawl, and going through the drive-through at Chik-fil-A. I miss my daughter having an American accent, knowing my way around places and my big Toyota 4Runner. But above all, I miss my family. They came to visit last month and it was the highlight of my time here in England. I feel like I can now truly say I know what it means when Jesus says we must be willing to give up our family to follow Him. I am more than willing to do this, but that doesn't take away the pain of separation. Christ is worth any sacrifice and he has proven that to us time and again throughout our marriage. Yet the pain of the sacrifice serves to remind us that this earth is not our permanent home. We are created for something so much better than this and one day I will spend eternity with my family. Jesus has sent us to England to bring others into that eternity with us. I am willing to give up anything for that, even if it means I never eat at a Buffalo Wild Wings restaurant again.
