As I write, my husband and two sons are driving west towards the mountains, heading to cool mountain streams and the campsite we'd reserved for a family adventure.  We were up late last night packing the car, and up early this morning filling the cooler.  We scooped the kids out of bed, and made it a half hour down the road before my daughter fell apart and we realized that she had a fever. Hiking, playing in waterfalls and camping were not in her future.  We reluctantly turned around and endured tears and choice words on the way home.  

As we re-grouped and re-packed to send the boys on a slightly altered camping adventure of their own, we all dealt with disappointment in our own ways.  One sobbed on the sofa, one threw a temper tantrum in the bathroom, and the other calmly waited in the car for a new plan.  I realized that as the adult, I had to suck up my own emotions and set an example for my children.  How I handle this small disappointment in life has the power to shape their experience and teach them about handling change in the future.  

As I grieved the time I had been looking forward to talking about life with my husband in the car, the shared adventure of going somewhere new together, and the encounter in nature away from the household to-dos, I realized that it was a familiar sense of loss.  It seems almost silly, given how generally healthy and blessed we have been this year, but I have spent a lot of emotional energy managing disappointment and clawing back from the sadness and depression I experienced when we returned from living abroad.  I was ready for a big change, but so far God has said, "Stay put."  I had honestly started to hope there was a way we could move to London for good, but it's been all closed doors.  God is teaching me and drawing me closer through the disappointments. 

We do not always get what we want.  God does not promise us that all our dreams will come true.  In fact, the bible assures us of troubles to come, and is essentially the story of a troubled people, living in the midst of disappointment, often trying to create their own short-term happiness instead of trusting in God and waiting on His provision.   

We do not always control the outcome.  Even in America, land of the free, no one is guaranteed success, fame or fortune.  Sometimes someone else gets the job, you don't get into the school, or you don't make the team.  Someone else is chosen, gets paid more, is given the glory.  Getting pregnant takes longer or happens sooner than you expect, children have special needs, the relationship doesn't work.  Life is not fair.  It is so hard!  I had a fairly charmed childhood, and honestly most things in my life have worked out more or less the way I've hoped.  I've been spared tragedy and devastating loss that I know others have endured.  And yet, I've had just enough loss, just enough longings not quite realized to know the ache.  

God has been so gentle in the way He is teaching me.   As a parent it is easy for me to tell my children that we do not always get what we want, and that we have to make the best of it.  But as an adult, it is another thing to live that out.  So today, when I watched my husband and boys drive away and turned to my daughter sobbing on the sofa, I had to make a choice.  Give in to the child inside of me and throw my own tantrum, or use my willpower to choose to focus on something positive.  She was watching me, and as I held her tight and changed my tune, she relaxed and I think let go of the guilt she felt about "ruining the trip." 

I've been feeling frazzled and life has been chaotic these last few weeks, and here I am with two completely unscheduled days.  It's like finding a $20 bill in your back pocket.  I am so sad not to be on a family adventure, but I am grateful for the time with my girl.  Maybe we'll paint each other's toenails, eat ice cream and watch a romantic comedy tonight.  I'll do the chores that have been left undone amidst the coming and going, AND start that novel, completely guilt-free.  I "worked" through the Sabbath this week, and here I've been given not one, but two days to rest.  

What power we have to change the narrative by how we choose to respond to life's inevitable challenges.  

What legacy we can leave by showing our children how to be disappointed well.  To grieve but not wallow.  To choose optimism and moving forward.  To persevere and build endurance.  We can help to write the soundtrack for the tapes that play in our family- one of bitterness, regret and self-pity, or one of faith, hope and love.  

I hate that we couldn't go on our trip as a family, but I am grateful for this opportunity to think about choosing to respond well.  Ultimately, the bible is a story of God offering something immensely bigger and better than what we imagine.  While the Jews waited for an earthly King to restore their place here on earth, Jesus came to redeem and restore all of mankind for an eternal heavenly Kingdom, one that He promises will even supplant the earthly kingdom someday.  He invites not only the historically Jewish, but all of us Gentiles too.  The way God works is to surpass our hopes and expectations, if only we have the courage to trust Him to lead the way, even when it's not the plan we had in mind! 

In February and March, I completed a 200 hour yoga teacher training course and taught my first class in April.  This month I’m signing a contract to continue working part-time at UNC as a Nurse Practitioner and setting up a yoga class at a local community center.   Charles has been working his arse off this semester, doing amazing things to engage the discussion of racial justice, history and memory at Elon and elsewhere.  Thank goodness the kids go to school everyday and have been healthy!  Only recently have I gotten the guilt trips about not volunteering much in their school this yearJ 
 
As I write these updates, I feel sad, weary, and proud.  Sad because my dream did not come true.  We don’t have a job offer to move to London and live life outside of the box- simple but so rich, worshiping at St. Barnabas and enjoying easy access to the most meaningful places in the world to us.  Weary because I’ve been straight up hustling, wearing too many hats, sometimes burning the candle at both ends, and trying to figure it all out.  Proud, because I finally did some of the things that up until now, I’ve only talked about, too afraid of failure to actually try. 
 
In this sweet spot of the year when the kids are still in school and the University semester is over, our family catches it’s breath.  This year even more than some others, I’m intentionally reflective about where we’ve been and what come’s next.  My general M.O. is to move on to something new.  I feel like in this season, much to my frustration, the message I’m getting from God is stay put, dig in.   In every area of life- marriage, parenting, work (in all it’s various forms- medicine, yoga, & small-business running), community, church- to press in, invest, stay the course. What does that look like?  It’s different in each area.  I’ve been listening to a new podcast this spring, The Next Right Thing, by Emily P. Freeman. It’s such a helpful phrase for that keeps me from swirling and ruminating.

I wish I could share that I’d be posting more soon about amazing adventures abroad, because that feels much more exciting, and gives me a reason to write and not think it crazy that someone would be interested in reading what I have to say.  Alas, it seems our next adventure is into the nitty gritty.  I suppose it is fitting and maybe the plan all along that Minding the Gap would truly come to mean not minding the differences, but paying attention. 
 
Part of pressing in rather than running away this summer is to write more, both here on Minding the Gap, but also on “Bringing Briton Home” which lives on the Briton Home website.  I need my life and thoughts to be more consolidated and less scattered!   My goal this summer is for these two sites to learn to play together, consistently reflect things that are meaningful, and encourage a life that is simple but rich. 
 
I just posted a new blog post on Bringing Briton Home about intentionally spending more time outside, particularly in public spaces,  in order to approximate the pedestrian lifestyle of European cities and towns.  You can read it here.
 
I’ll use this space to speak more explicitly about matters of the heart & faith, ways that’s related to yoga & mindfulness, and hopefully some travel too. 
 
One of the benefits of starting a business is that I’ve figured out a few techie things, such as email lists and notifications!  If you’d like to be notified when I make a new post, you can sign up below. (And you can always unsubscribe!)   And it’s been so encouraging to hear from you that at least some of what I’m thinking about resonates.  I’d love to hear your feedback about what hits you.  Please leave comments below or send me an email at dirons@britonhome.com.  How are you minding the gap in the everyday?  Have you had dreams deferred?  What does digging in and investing where you are instead of moving on look like for you?  Surely I’m not alone!!

Finally, if you're on instagram, I invite you to use #mindingthegap when you notice something simple that is bringing you joy.  I'm there @dbi725 and @briton_home.   Much love! ​

Last week was Thanksgiving week here in the States.  I was explaining Pilgrims and the origins of Thanksgiving to my six-year-old the other night, and we wondered about how we would have handled this "new world" thing.  I acknowledge there are a lot of complicated storylines about white people, Imperialism, and the effects on Native Americans.  As the Charlie Brown special so vividly depicted, (we watched this again recently- they don't make them like that anymore!)  life was rough for those early pioneers, and I have to give them credit for taking some big risks and trying a lot of new things!  I don't know how accurate our story of the "First Thanksgiving" feast between Indians and Pilgrims really is, but I imagine they were genuinely very thankful to have made it that far.  

I have mixed feelings about how we celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas these days.  There's too much consumerism, and it's hard to keep hold of the truest meaning.  These holidays are especially difficult for people going through hard times- grief, illness, financial insecurity.  I am grateful that our troubles are mild, but still, life does not always look like what we think it will and sometimes we just don't feel as "happy" as we should.  Nonetheless, I know it is always good to be thankful for what we have.  Research has shown that gratitude has measurable psychological, physical, and social benefits. We feel happier and act more kindly when we practice being grateful.  When we were traveling earlier this year, it was easy to notice and celebrate all the great adventures and beautiful people and things we experienced, and they felt worthy of blogging about.  In honor of Thanksgiving and instead of a Christmas list, I've created a list of my favorite things about life in Durham- new things I've found or developed a greater appreciation for since we've been back...  

​1. Forest View Elementary School- Our children have gone to school here since Caroline started Kindergarten six years ago.  Over the years, it has become more and more a community.  Since we've been back, we've been taking advantage of our proximity and walking to school more. My two big volunteer roles there are to coordinate a big Fall Festival, complete with games, prizes, bouncy house, face-painting and food trucks, and to help give tours to prospective families.  They are labors of love, but looking around at such a truly diverse crowd, and hearing "Hi Jack's mom!" from various adorable six-year-olds, and hearing stories of teachers knowing and loving my children makes me so very grateful to be a part of this school. I want to give a shout out to the "Forest View Praying Mamas," a group of moms who have formed and meet regularly to pray for our school.  It is inspiring to hear the passion of other women's hearts for the kids and teachers. I am highly motivated to try to make it an even better place, and to attract more families who are willing and able to contribute to the Forest View Family.  We just had dinner with several teachers tonight, and the more I get to know them, the more grateful I am for how invested they are in caring for our children!

2. Hollow Rock Swim & Racquet Club- This is the pool and tennis club nearly across the street where we spend our summer. It is the place that provides the greatest overlap of all our Durham worlds- where we see friends from school, the neighborhood, church, work, soccer, etc.  It is a frequent joke that it is the "un-country club" for like-minded people who just want to relax and have fun.  Dinner at the pool with draft beer in a solo cup sounds good to me!  For several years, Jack was the reigning "belly-flop champion" of the 4th of July games, and it is the place in our life where the kids can be the most free-range.  I don't worry much because the pool manager is also our beloved Kindergarten teacher, and I trust him to get my kids in line if they test the limits!  Join the fun- the more the merrier! 

3.  Christ Central Church - When we returned from London, Charles and I both felt like it was time to explore joining a new church in the area.  We are so grateful for the friends and fellowship at our previous church, but to be honest, we need something "messier."  Charles had a vision and simply felt called to be in a church body where he could form authentic relationships with African Americans.  I needed to be able to sometimes raise my arms up overhead, to cry in front of others, to be challenged to get comfortable being outside of my comfort zone.  We visited several churches, but we've landed on this church in downtown Durham, "that exists to seek the glory of God and the good of Durham, through spiritual, social and cultural renewal."  This mission that acknowledges the importance of physical place and the practicality of loving your literal neighbor resonates with what God was showing us in London.  We're very much still newcomers, but I joined the choir, and our kids are starting to find their place, as evidenced by their comfort level running around the pews after the service.  If this sounds like an interesting take on church for you, please come with us! 

4. Durham Yoga Company- In the heart of downtown, overlooking the Durham skyline, this is my new favorite yoga studio.  It's a happy mix of teachers and styles, legit without taking itself too seriously.  I love taking evening classes and watching the sun set throughout class, ending in mostly darkness.  Sometimes there is an African drum ensemble practicing nearby outside, and even though one might think that would be distracting from yoga, it actually brings me joy thinking about people everywhere doing their thing, literally marching to their own beat.  The studio is part of Carolina Yoga Company, with other studios in Carrboro and Hillsborough.  I just enrolled in the Yoga Teacher Training course for Spring 2019! 

5. Lunch dates with Charles- Namu, Saladelia, Beer Study, Ponysaurus, Haw River Ales
One of the best things we brought home from London was lunchtime dates! Our kids are all in school, and we both have work that is portable. I can be a creature of habit, so it's been fun to widen our repertoire of go-tos. There is a theme... most of these locations have great outdoor seating and craft beer! I promise, the words flow better with a pint in hand! We don't always work, and somehow being out together during the daytime feels kind of like skipping school... 

6. Joe Van Gogh- Friday morning coffee
I realized I have an awkward gap in my schedule on Fridays after I drop Caroline off at school before I have to be at work.  I've decided to see it as a gift, and I regularly stop in this little neighborhood coffee shop on Friday mornings.  I treat myself to a latte, and read a weekly blog post from a friend in London.  She writes about Sabbath and rest, and this little island of time is a marker that I am resisting the urge for constant productivity.  It is so good to be still and quiet, even when life is happening loud and fast all around. 

7. Hillsborough- Ayr Mount and the River Walk
This charming colonial town is only about 15 minutes from us, but feels like a different world.  Ayr Mount is an 1815 Federal Era plantation, now a historic site, complete with a wide lawn and old trees, good for sitting and climbing.  We've loved exploring the 1 mile "Poet's Walk" hike and have made several afternoon adventures by pairing a walk at Ayr Mount with either a bike ride along the River Walk in town, or BBQ & beer at Hillsborough BBQ, of course always followed by ice cream at the new place in town, Whit's Frozen Custard. 

8. Duck Donuts
Why is this so funny to me?  We've always had "treats" on the weekend.  It used to be home-made muffins or Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, but after being spoiled by Gail's Bakery and Paul's Pastry in London, we've upped our game.  Fortunately, a local Duck Donuts opened in Durham while we were gone, and even though it's a chain, they have amazing donuts.  I had never had them before, but now I'm a sucker for the made to order French Toast donut.  We like a little novelty, and I think the fact that the kids can create their own order every week makes it a winner! 

9. Journeymates
Once a month, I meet with a group of women, most of whom I'd never met before September, and we sit near one another in mostly silence for 3 hours!  It sounds totally bizarre when I say it like that, but this shared encounter of holy stillness is life-giving. I am so grateful for the wisdom of the women who lead this time in scripture and prayer, and mostly for the space it creates in my heart to rest in God.  Sometimes not doing anything is far more important and beneficial than my hustle.  

10. My kitchen table
Coming home to a much bigger space, filled with much more stuff than the flat in London was troubling for me.  All I saw were projects, things undone, and stuff we didn't need.  I've done a few of those projects, gotten rid of some stuff, and there is still much undone, but I have come to find peace at my kitchen table.  This is where I sit to write, looking into the backyard, with my dog nearby.  I like to light a candle when I sit here, for the "Hygge" factor.  I do email on the sofa, but when I sit here, I'm focused and open to whatever may come.  I also celebrate my kitchen table because it is the place where most nights we sit together for dinner, and even though it is rarely calm, my kids don't use their manners and usually don't want whatever I've cooked, we are together.  When we remember these years, I think we'll think of the kitchen table as a happy place, where we shared our best things/worst things and learned how to share the spotlight.  I hope it will be a reminder of God's steady provision and nourishment for our bodies and our souls.  

Last week, my dad asked me to drive his shiny red 1966 Corvette to a car show for him.  I grew up going to late model car races and car shows, and I learned the meaning of a "joy ride" young.  My first car was a sporty little two-door stick shift, and I used to love to push the RPM up on the straightaways of the country roads, sunroof open, windows down, rock blaring.  My favorite was to drive like that when I was by myself- just me and the thrill.  (Now that my own daughter will get her driver's license in four years, I am completely terrified and amazed that I survived adolescence).  But after college, I did the sensible thing and got a four-door VW sedan, followed by a somewhat sportier SUV, and then, a few years ago, I succumbed to the minivan.  I was a cheerleader in college, the top of the pyramid, the "flyer," the one running and doing handsprings across the football field ahead of the players at the game, big happy butterflies in my stomach with the roar of the crowd and the pounding of the music on the Jumbotron.  The last 15 years of starting a family and settling down have been amazing, but now I get nauseated on the swing-set and doing a handstand at yoga is my big thrill. Traveling earlier this year sparked my adventurous side, and I find I'm noticing and yearning for it more. 

So early last Saturday morning, with my dad already at the car show, and my husband following me in our minivan (just in case), I pushed the clutch in hard and turned the key on that beautiful old muscle car.  It was parked on an incline, and I was sweating and terrified of I don't know what, but I trusted muscle memory, put my foot on the gas and let go of that clutch.  I felt the power of the engine take over and took off!  Those Corvettes make such a good hearty noise, and as I hurtled along the lovely winding roads of Charlottesville, breaking the peaceful morning stillness, I was totally grinning.  I felt the good old thrill, the expanse in my chest, the butterflies soaring.  

I've thought about that feeling all week, and how it was familiar but novel, like finding your favorite old sweatshirt after years, or even the way it feels to pull out the winter coat again for the first time in November after months of bathing suits and shorts during the summer.  I recognized and remembered that part of me that I had put away for the last decade and a half.  I've tucked my thrill-seeking nature and fearlessness back behind the diapers, the lunch-boxes and tupperware as I've become a mom, increasingly aware of my mortality, and wrapped up in everyday demands and to-dos.  

I may or may not be having a bit of what some people like to call "a mid-life crisis."  I prefer to think of it as an opportunity to re-align my life and my values.  I've just started reading a book called "Falling Upwards" by the Franciscan teacher, Richard Rohr, who describes this second half as the great adventure, the task within the task, something more.  I honestly don't know exactly what this holds or entails.  I'm not trading in my husband or kids, though I have considered selling my minivan.  I may need to borrow the Corvette every now and then.  

The thing that feeling with the Corvette helped me to see is that I had to overcome my fear--the fear that builds up from years and years of not taking enough risks--to get in that car, allow that powerful engine to propel me and let me experience the joy. 

The thrill comes from soaring when you're not sure. 

When we were doing stunts in cheerleading, I didn't know if I would fall, but I did my best to be steady up top, and trusted my partner to catch me.  I have some ideas, some things I want to try, that may or may not work out.  But they sure won't work if I don't do my part and jump, or put my foot on the gas, or whatever metaphor works! 

My sister-in-law is a singer/songwriter.  I totally admire her guts and nerve to not only get out there and sing and perform in front of thousands, but also to balance being a mom and following her dreams to bring a new album to reality.  I love that she is presently touring in the UK with my brother-in-law and their one year old daughter, just doing it.  There's a song on her new album that I love, called "What Will I Do."  It's my theme song for this season! Give it a listen- Feel free to buy her album while you're at it! 

I recently asked some of my oldest, bestest friends about their fears.  I'm convinced that we all have them, and they are strong and powerful and hold us back, but we rarely talk about them.  I went first- I totally fear failure, and the shame that follows. It led to a good exchange, deeper than our usual text chatter.  What are your fears?  Deep down in your soul, what holds you back?  I love that writers with a global audience like Brene Brown are bringing these questions to the cultural conversation.  

Bringing fear to the light and naming it takes a lot of the power out of it, just like turning on a nightlight for my six-year-old who is recently afraid of the dark lessens his fear.   

Sometimes we have to name the fear to a trusted friend, sometimes we just have to jump, and sometimes we can drive our dad's treasured Corvette and not cause a scene by stalling out on Route 29 but instead be surprised by the thrill of it and be reminded that it can be fun to take risks! 

So stay tuned...we just bought plane tickets! 

When I last wrote, I shared about leaving London.  We got home in mid-May, while everyone else was taking EOGs and finishing school.  The kids were thrilled to see our neighbors, and we literally dove right in to swim team.  I started a new job two weeks later, and the reality of suburban American life has been in full force ever since, minivan, Target, and all.

Coming home has been harder for me than I anticipated.  Honestly, it's been a bit of a let down.  Like the day after Christmas, or the week after your birthday.  All that anticipation, the glorious long-awaited event, and then, it's over.  Back to reality.  We've actually continued to have really wonderful family experiences this summer, trips to the beach with each of our families, a weekend in the mountains with friends, a great season of play and friends at the pool. But I've struggled to be joyful or feel happy.  And then I've felt guilty about not feeling grateful.  I've grieved being away from a place I fell in love with, and the reality that I cannot in fact move to England and work in a cute little shop just for fun (at least not right now).  Honestly, I tumbled off my mountaintop experience and landed on my butt, slightly depressed. I was completely difficult to live with, and my sweet husband has shown me (almost) endless grace and patience.  

In spite of my efforts to continue “minding the gap”, to look for the beauty and goodness in simple things around me, to photo-document said moments on instagram, it's just been downright hard to live it out here amidst the ordinary. I think I jinxed myself by saying at one point that I was “learning to be content in all circumstances.” Hah! I clearly have so much to learn.  I've wondered about what I can write about, why anyone would care, and who I would even want my audience to be.  

As the kids headed back to school a few weeks ago, the cobwebs have started clearing and a little order is coming to our lives. Even as I edit this, I feel a little brighter and lighter, a little more hopeful than the me I'm describing above.  A new day *might* be dawning (I've learned the hard way not to make grand statements like that!)

We're not living in a new city right now, and we don't even have any exciting travel plans on the horizon.  But I am aware that I am on a journey.  I propose that we are all fellow travelers on the journey.  On our last Sunday at church in London, I wrote down the verse to a song that I felt like I heard just for me- “Bear your cross while you await your crown.  Tell of the treasures your have found.”   So, here I am- writing to offer encouragement from the road, telling of the treasures I have found. 

In my work as a Nurse Practitioner, I am privy to people's struggles.  I know that a lot of people suffer disappointment, anxiety, depression, fear, shame, worry, doubt, and discouragement that they don't talk about amongst friends and colleagues.  I have learned from and continue to be helped by the words of others who can offer "travel advice" because they've already been down the road ahead of me.  I want to use this platform to practice being honest, real, and vulnerable- because I value that in other people, and because living that way is much more life-giving than keeping up a front.  I hope my story and reflections might help, comfort, or inspire you- whoever you are- if you are reading this. 
 
Interestingly, looking through pictures of our summer to post here reminded me of why I started writing this and posting in the first place.   Our life is our story, which we're writing everyday.  When we live with an eye to the detail, we do notice more, and it's a better story.  Even if we can only read the story after the chapters are complete. So here are some "random" moments that I captured, that tell our story of the summer.  They bring me joy to see them, and remind me of the goodness, even when I'm not feeling it! 

We returned to London on a Friday evening, and for me it felt like coming home.  I had started the process of disconnecting while we were in Italy, anticipatory grieving, and opening the door to our flat in London was like walking back into a fairytale. 

We had been pretty measured and disciplined during our first few months in London, limiting our dining out to once a week, only getting "treats" occasionally, spreading out our big tickets activities in a sustainable way.  But coming off three weeks of daily gelato and a splurge weekend in Venice with only seven days in my new favorite place, we let go of restraint and made the most of it.  For the most part, we just wanted to soak up time with the people that had become dear to us-- new friends from church and school, expat connections we'd made with UVa friends, a wonderful Mother's Day BBQ with my newfound Aunt and cousins.  We cried at every farewell, and marveled at how amazing it was to have been able to make such real connections in such a relatively short time.  It felt so counter-intuitive, wrong, against-the-grain, to have to end these genuine friendships when they had just started.  We have spent years in Burlington and Durham on lonely islands in terms of close relationships.  We are grateful that in the year or two before London, we had finally found a "group" and we've had friends praying for us and keeping up with us from abroad.  But it took 5 years! What is it about arriving in a new place that enables and encourages jumping into deep relationships with less hesitation?  Maybe it was God's special provision for us during this season, but I also think there are two other ingredients...

1. Me- I tend to be overly self-aware, and I hold back out of fear of rejection.  When I show up in a new country, where no one knows me and I have a limited time, I have nothing to lose.  Why not initiate?  Why not put myself out there?  Say how I really feel?  The spirit of adventure that got us packed and across the ocean with three young kids and seven suitcases pervaded my being and affected my posture towards new people in the same way I was more able to fully appreciate and enjoy new spaces with fresh eyes. 
​
2. Them- There are cultural differences between Americans and Europeans.  I've hesitated to say that out loud, and this is not an exhaustive treatment of that subject, but I noticed a difference in how people introduced themselves, and the followup questions they asked. Instead of name/occupation/school/neighborhood, we got name/what brings you here/how are you finding it?  Sure, maybe it's because we were the new kids in town, but I was so appreciative of how warmly and openly we were received, and how I never got the sense that we were being sized up or evaluated for whether we would fit into a social circle, whether my clothes, shoes, bag, or car said I was good enough, cute enough, or interesting enough to be worthy of getting to know.  

​Europe, and London especially, is full of people from so many backgrounds that the same socioeconomic, skin-color and external markers of status that I'm accustomed to don't work.  During our time in London, we got to know people who had lived in tents in Africa, families that owned historical property in central London and castles in Scotland.  One friend had Number 10 Downing on speed dial, another stayed home to care for her disabled granddaughter.  At our church alone, there were those who had inherited millions, and others living in public housing.  Recent refugees and those with Royal blood.  However, just looking around, it would have been impossible to tell who was who.  I make these observations in part as a critique of American suburban culture, in which we are hyper-aware (without noticing) of status.  I also revisit these ideas to highlight the freedom I felt when I didn't play by those rules.  I was more myself, and didn't make assumptions about others, resulting in more authentic, vulnerable relationships, that went deeper faster.  

Early on, over a meal, the Vicar of our church in London, who himself had moved to London only four months earlier, invited us to dive in headfirst.  He encouraged us to come on the church retreat, even though we wouldn't be lifelong members.  "You either jump in, and be a part of what God is doing, or sit on the sidelines and watch."  That permission to participate fully and join in, expecting that we could be useful and experience God's blessing, no matter how long we were there, was a gift.  It kept me from holding back as I so often do, fearful of overstaying our welcome or being perceived as overzealous or needy.  So we did.  We went to bible studies, had coffee with people we met there, volunteered to serve the homeless in the church basement, spent a weekend in the countryside with a wise older couple, prayed, laughed and cried with the wonderful people we got to know.  

In addition to saying farewell to new friends during our last week in London, we of course also had to go to all our favorite London places "one last time."  (Hoping that there will someday actually be another time!)  It helped that I had a birthday that week, giving us a proper excuse to picnic in Regent's Park on Tuesday afternoon, have ice-cream sundaes at Fortnum & Mason on Wednesday, and eat waffles outside the Tower of London on Thursday.  I woke up early to fulfill my goal of running all the way around Hyde Park before we left, and we stayed at Holland Park until it closed at dusk.  I took the long route, down the Mews behind our flat, every time I could, and went out of my way to use the charming pedestrian passage with the arch, just because I could.  I appreciated those cobblestones, rounded and softened by so many feet before mine, noticed the tree-lined avenues, finally filled in with springtime glory, the pastel doors with their interesting hardware.  I soaked up the energy of the people coming and going on the Tube, the little thrill of going upstairs in the double-decker bus and finding the front seats available. I enjoyed the nuances of life in London- Waitrose bags with fresh bread,  a pound for the grocery cart, the ping of the contactless card machine.  The city was dressed in all it's bunting and finery in anticipation of the Royal wedding, even giving Charles and the kids a Royal farewell as they happened to see the motorcade pass on the way to Windsor.  Living so near Kensington Palace, it was fun to feel a part of it all, even if we did leave the day before the wedding.  
I could go on and on.  As I look back at our pictures, and keep finding receipts in various wallets and pockets, I can honestly say we have no regrets.  It was so wonderful.  

Spoiler alert- I'm writing this from my desk in Durham, so we did in fact leave England and we made it home safe and sound.  However, we've had a lot of adventures since my last post, and it's good therapy for me to revisit our pictures and the places we spent our last month abroad, so here goes! 
Charles had a sabbatical from teaching in the fall semester, but as often happens, he didn't get much "rest" during that time. For years, we've been looking forward to returning to Italy, and the stars aligned this time for us to go to Italy for several weeks after Charles' teaching responsibilities in London ended.  These three weeks were his true sabbatical, as evidenced by the fact that he didn't even bring his computer!  We traveled light, appreciating the joys of low cost European airlines, and set off for Rome in late April.  

Since we are theoretically home-schooling this year, Rome seemed like a good "field trip" to start with.  When we left Durham, both Caroline and Caleb were studying ancient cultures, and Caleb has been steadily working his way through the Greek and Roman mythologies via Percy Jackson, so it was really fun to find our apartment near the Piazza Navona, visit the Colosseum, get lost on the Palatine Hill on our way to the Circus Maximus.  We walked along the Tiber river (Fiume Tevere), looked at the sky through the Pantheon, climbed the Spanish steps, made wishes in the Trevi Fountain.  We sent the kids on scavenger hunts in St. Peter's Square while we waited in line to enter the basilica, and were all humbled and awed again to see the crypt of Peter- who walked with Jesus and is my favorite example of God using a repeat sinner to do his work.  Charles employed his Latin skills to help us decipher the words encircling the amazing dome-"Tu es Petrus et super hanc petram aedificabo ecclesiam mean et tibi dabo claves regni caelorum" ("You are 'Rock' and on this rock I will build my Church, to you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven." Mt 16:18).  Sweet Caleb so innocently remarked with wonder, "Is that the same Peter in the bible? Sometimes it's hard to tell if the things in the bible are myths or real.  But there he is, so it's really real?"  ​From the mouths of babes... Sometimes we need the certainty of something solid like bones to help us grasp otherwise ephemeral ideas like faith, resurrection, eternity.  
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From Rome, we took a high speed train across Italy to Florence, and found our way back through the cobbled streets we once knew well (a previous study abroad in 2009) to the Duomo,the magnificent Renaissance church that is the heart of the city.  We stayed in an adorable bed & breakfast (B&B Soggiorno Panerai) near our favorite piazza, coined "Piazza Chase Birds" by Caroline when she was 4, as it was the closest wide open space we could find for her to, as the name suggests,  chase the birds!   Florence is always wonderful, small enough to get a sense of in just a few days, so lovely with all the terra cotta roofs, bridges, and good piazzas for dining al fresco.  Returning to a place where one has made special memories during a different season can be unsettling when both we and the place have changed, even in subtle ways.  It was so great that we were joined by dear friends from Durham in Florence, and were able to show them the highlights, stay in a different part of town, and see the city through new eyes!  

​Traveling with 7 children in tow definitely alters the itinerary, but it slows things down in a good way so that there is no hope of checking everything off a tour book must-see list.  We climbed the Duomo and paid David a visit (the youngest among the group especially appreciated the really large naked guy!), played ga-ga ball with  new Italian friends in our favorite park, began our quest to have a gelato-a-day (at least one!). We had the pleasure of introducing Aaron and Sarah to aperitivi- the Italian equivalent of happy hour, but improved by being mostly served outside at cafe tables under big umbrellas, and accompanied by little bowls of olives, nuts, chips, or if you're going all out, a platter of salami, cheese and bread.  Italians drink their coffee too fast for me, standing up in a bar with a shot of espresso, but I've always loved this pause at the end of the day in Italy.  The piazzas are kid-friendly and the warm fuzzy glow of a glass of prosecco makes me feel like God took special joy when he created Italy.... "He makes grass grow for the cattle, and plants for men to cultivate--bring forth food from the earth: wine that gladdens the heart of man, oil to make his face shine, and bread that sustains the heart." (Psalm 104:14-15)

I don't think Charles could physically be in Italy and not go to Assisi.  This little hill town in Umbria, south of Tuscany, was the birthplace of St. Francis and the heart of his ministry.  Charles had his own conversion experience there as a 19 year old, and it is among those Umbrian hills and in the quiet spaces near Francis that Charles finds his greatest peace.  So, it was a joy to be able to celebrate Charles' birthday with friends, old and new, in Assisi. We hiked on paths where Francis would have walked, and climbed towers that have been there for a thousand years.  The kids played in the creek and swam in the pool, we ate more gelato, and drank even better wine. We had an amazing meals, the kind that define "abundance" for me, simple food, done well, plenty, shared with our good friends.  After sharing Assisi with the McKethans, we received even more generous hospitality, and were invited to stay in the family home of dear Italian friends.  "Rest" looks different to Charles and I, so he enjoyed early morning long runs up Mount Subasio, while I enjoyed morning coffee poolside on the side of the mountain.  We got to be Italian tourists with Francesco and Iolanda and their kids, hiking "la Cascata delle Marmore," a waterfall created by the ancient Romans and relaxing in natural thermal pools, where the kids covered themselves in sulfur mush and we ended the day with aperitivi overlooking the Tuscan hills. 

​We ended our Italian holiday in Venice at the kids request.  It is not an easy city to get to, and it's certainly a good place for a final "splurge." Still, it's hard not to be amazed by this floating city that looks just like the postcards.  Charles and I had each been to Venice before, but never with the kids.  My previous visits had been marked by too many Bellinis and flirting with Italian waiters with my college girlfriends and then by our first married experience of the stomach bug.  Our first day fighting the crowds with 3 "hangry" kids in search of a non-touristy place to eat in Venice this time had us reminding ourselves of why we didn't visit more often. Fortunately, Venice has enough charming campos, calles, and ponte (their version of piazzas, streets and bridges) to literally lose oneself.  We discovered a gem in the Museum of the Basilica di San Marco, which gives you access to what feels like a secret balcony overlooking the Piazza and the Grande Canal.  We found that we loved our little "neighborhood" of Santa Croce best, and for the most part avoided the main tourist areas, catching our Gondola instead from the nearest stand.  As cliche as it is, I really loved our gondola ride, and we were even serenaded!  We frequented the local bar for aperitivi, fantas, cappuccino and croissants and were befriended by older Italian ladies and a kind barman.  We ate gourmet pizza on napkins on the banks of the Grand Canal and practiced a pearl for good travel- getting off the beaten bath and getting to know the locals, and our last day in Italy was one that we already speak of as a family with such fondness that I am sure we'll still be talking about it when the kids are grown.  "Remember that day that Mom and Dad let us get as much gelato as we wanted, and we found that perfect bench while mom had that fancy drink?"  
Italy was bittersweet for me, as I was aware that every minute there was a minute less in London, and the days before our return to the US were passing so quickly.  Traveling around a country and living out of a suitcase with kids is harder than being settled in a flat, and we encountered challenges there that we'd not had to deal with in London. I regret the tension that caused between Charles and I, but celebrate that we redeemed most of our conflict and have some amazing family memories.  Fortunately, time tends soften the bad memories and the good ones glow brighter with remembering and retelling. Even as I write this, back in Durham, across the table from Charles in a hip new beer place while our kids are at camp, I keep interrupting him to reminisce about sweet family moments in Italy.  

It's why you do it-why you save, why you splurge, schlep the bags, play through the painful grumpy moments of adjustment.  To build the memories that make your story, that paint your picture, that live on long after you return home.  Arrivederci Italia!   

Spring finally came!  And if I loved London before, now I am totally smitten!  

“Mind the Gap” is a warning, a caution against the alternative, which is not noticing, and getting stuck!  However, I’ve discovered that in the context of living life, it can be dangerous to ‘mind the gap.’ The risk of pausing to notice the differences and paying more attention to one’s surroundings is that you just might find that you like what you find and see so much that you don’t want to get back on the train! (or in our case, plane).  Bear with me, as this is a bit of me processing my grief over preparing to leave...
 
We loved hosting Charles’ parents, our dear friends (aka cousins) the Kirwans, and my mom over the last month.  It gave us an excuse to brave the seemingly never-ending cold and rain and see some of London’s greatest landmarks that we’d been saving to share with family.  Windsor Castle, Westminster Abbey, Hampton Court, Buckingham Palace, among others.  The change of routine was a nice breather for the kids, and seeing friends from home buoyed their spirits, helping them to appreciate the joys of urban living in new ways (they also enjoyed an increased frequency of treats- ice cream, cookies, chocolate croissants, meals out on the town).  We redeemed our first car rental experience with two successful trips out of London to experience beautiful towns and long walks in the Cotswolds.  

Today was the kids last day of school in London.  It has been an amazing experience in so many ways.  They have learned so much and made real friends.  Charles and I have so enjoyed this time together, taking advantage of his flexible schedule to pass hours in various café’s sharing a pot of tea and a scone while he writes and I read, or as we did today, to drink more exciting beverages high above the skyline!  We’re soaking up the simple pleasures of hopping on a bus and finding the front seats upstairs available! Watching little children play in their unders in the V&A fountain! Grabbing a loaf of gourmet bread on the way home! Lingering in St. James Park in the sunshine, hearing the sounds of horse guards and troops changing at Buckingham Palace in the background! Walking to the park afterschool with half the class, sharing snacks and climbing trees!  Walking across the Serpentine Bridge at dusk, passing Kensington Palace on our way home! 
I’m somewhat desperately trying to sear images and “heart memories” of the delight I feel into my consciousness, lest I forget when we return to the states. 

​We fly back in about a month.  I’m hopeful that I can manage the trick of ‘minding the gap’ in the other direction, and return to North Carolina with fresh eyes and a renewed spirit. Overwhelmed by natural and man-made beautiful spaces, and having received such generosity and kindness during our time here, I can genuinely say that my cup is full.  I’ve realized that I’d fallen into living with a scarcity mentality, never quite satisfied, worrying about not having or being enough.  Being here has helped me to see life from a perspective of abundance and gratitude. I clearly haven’t mastered it, but I’m starting to understand what Paul meant when he wrote, “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Philippians 4:12, NIV)“.  I’ll share more on how I think life in Europe is more conducive to this another time, but there are some cultural differences that seem to contribute to people’s ability to be in the moment and enjoy life more.  With that said, our time in London is temporary, made possible only by Elon’s great Study Abroad program.  I choose to be so thankful for what we’ve experienced and the people we’ve met here. As every good trip should, our time here has changed us and become part of our story.   We’re looking forward making the most of our upcoming travel to Italy, soaking up and drinking richly of the culture there that lends itself so well to that.  We’ll revisit places and spaces and people that have been life-changing in the past, introduce Jack to proper Italian gelato, and toast life with friends coming to join us in Florence and Assisi.
 
Here are some recent highlights, and I imagine there will be a few more over the next few weeks in Italy! 

​Spring is my favorite time of year.   Having arrived in London during the darkest, coldest time of the year, I can’t wait to experience England in the springtime.   I can sense it right around the corner, but so far, it seems like it just won’t come.  Increasingly over the last few weeks, I’ve started noticing little green shoots poking through the mulch, buds are forming on the trees, a few are just barely starting to flower, and the daffodils are starting to bloom in the park!  But just when I was getting excited, it snowed this weekend!  
 
Perhaps because we’re so much more exposed to the elements here as we walk everywhere, or because I have to go outside to the shed to put clothes in the dryer (I’m not complaining- it’s still better than crunchy clothes that dry on the line), or maybe because I just don’t like being cold, I am very attuned to these little signs that the season is changing. I am more eager than I ever remember for Spring to come and stay. 
 
More than any other year, I am struck by how the season of Lent, in anticipation of Easter (which falls on April 1 this year), overlaps with and echoes nature’s cycle of new life coming after a time of darkness and hard ground.  On Ash Wednesday at the beginning of Lent, the liturgy reminds us that we come from dust and invites us into a time of letting go and going without.  There is suffering, a loss of the status quo, and a facing of the unknown in the stories of the disciples and Jesus leading up to Easter.  And then, there is this bursting forth of glory and hope come Easter morning with our celebration of Jesus’ resurrection and promise of a new life through faith in Him.

As we approach the halfway mark of our semester abroad, I am fighting off the sadness that comes when something so long anticipated comes to a close.  I want to remain right here in the thick of it as long as I can! But cup half full-- I will enjoy this moment, in a little cafe down the street from Westminster Abbey, where I just popped in for a midday service, across a table from my favorite person in the world, sipping tea, watching the snow flurries.  I am trying to soak it all up, impress it in my mind so it can be another happy place I can go to in my thoughts when I'm somewhere less dreamy.  Humor me as I tell you about the classic red telephone box across the street , the double-decker buses rolling by, which are so iconic but truly so useful, the architecture of the buildings in my view- columns, arches, scrolls, whimsical details that are so commonplace here one almost forgets to notice them.  It could be practically any corner in London, but it achieves infamy when I sit in it for a while.