I started looking through old photos, and they've brought back some wonderful memories!
After laughing at uni photos and thinking about how much fun the last few months have been, and then to those taken over the summer (one of the best I've ever had, might I add), I inevitably stumbled across the photos taken during my last few days in Canada...
And now I'm upset.
Not majorly.
Like, nothing to worry about.
I'm not crying yet or anything.
But I was talking with a guy a couple of weeks back, about the decision making process I went through that led to me coming home and starting University.
I talked about not knowing the 'right' way. And praying for a clear answer. And feeling such strong pulls from loved ones at home (in England) who wanted so desperately for me to come back to them and to school. But also feeling similar pulls from loved ones in my second home (Canada) who also willed me to stay there, live with them, remain part of their family and invest in the life of their Church and in Pais, while they invested in me...
I told him I knew that those were my two options.
And one of them was best.
But neither were wrong.
I chose England. I chose University. I chose Mom and Dad and Matty. Zion.... everything else that was here waiting for me when I returned.
And that doesn't mean that I chose against Canada.
My love for that country still remains. And if anything, my passion for Canada and it's people has deepened.
Perhaps because I'm no longer there.
Anyway, so this guy I was talking to about my decision asked me how I felt about the choice I'd made.
I told him.
And then he gave me a chance to tell God too.
Something I suppose I hadn't officially done.
(I apologized to God too, in case I'd made the wrong decision, but more than that I just told Him how I felt about it all).
And then the guy, (his name was Stephen; I'll use his name from now on), so Stephen said,
"it's OK to grieve over the path you didn't take."
"Mmhmm" I said, not wanting to make eye contact because I wasn't sure I could do so without starting to cry there and then.
"It's normal to be sad about leaving something behind, moving in a new direction. It really is OK to be upset about it. And grieve. In order to move on."
Stephen is a wise man.
I forgot that I'd had this conversation with him, until just now, looking through these pictures.
Because when I saw them, the pictures of Jessie and Tera and I in San Antonio, of Brenda and Mario, of Kenzie and I at the hockey game having just got our noses pierced that day, of Morgi and I at the Asian Market, of my goodbye party at Erin's with the pool and the amazing cake and the lovely memories, I remembered how amazing the time I spent in Canada was.
I remembered the beautiful people I got to know and spend time with and love, and what a privilege it was to become part of their family.
And perhaps now this is me grieving.
And as I grieve, I know the LORD is close to me.
He will turn my mourning in to dancing (hopefully not literally haha! But He may surprise me!) and my sorrow in to joy.
I can rest in Him, knowing He is good and faithful, and honestly, when I look at my life here at Keele, I can not deny the presence of God in all I do.
My life is abundant.
I'm loving every minute.
His faithfulness astounds me.
He is at work every day, and I'm learning to trust Him more and more.
This path I have chosen, I am not walking alone.
Thank you Jesus.
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