Not all those who wander are lost…

I am a nomad. I belong everywhere and nowhere. Homesickness and restlessness are never far from my thoughts. I think about the quote from JRR Tolkien when he said that not all those who wander are lost. Wanderings can be purposeful, even if it doesn’t feel that way at the time. 

I love the dreariness of this picture of my hometown brigde capturing one of my wandering seasons. On leave for medical reasons, I felt lost. How could this detour possibly be part of the plan? Uprooting our kiddos again, suffering a miscarriage in the midst of a chronic illness, and having my husband give up his work to help care for us all.

Feeling so far from my faith, I wondered how God could allow such a painful season of sickness and loss. But just like the picture, there is beauty even in winter. The sweet smell of rain compared to the desert place where I had gotten so sick—the peacefulness of the river flowing instead of dry, desert lands. 

Fifteen years later, I can look back and say I am thankful for that time. Hard as it was, my Gran got to spend time with me and her great-grandchildren. Even though we were all living with an 85-year-old widow used to living alone, she opened up her home. I know she loved us, even if there were moments when a house full of noise was overwhelming for her.

I wish I could go back in time and thank her more for that season—for the gift of a home and food, treats for our kiddos, visits to the ice cream van, and a place for me to begin the long road of recovery.

I desperately needed time with my parents. Even though everyday things like shopping were a struggle, there was something beautiful about wandering around the shops with my Mum, football matches with my Dad, and traditional Sunday lunches. Mum and Dad got to do everyday things that other grandparents did: picking up their grandkids from school, sleepovers, walking adventures, and trips to the library!

One of the most beautiful benefits of living a life of faith is hope. I had hope that one day, the mist would clear, the grief would soften, and I would feel well again. And the season of suffering would one day be used to bring that hope to others.

…but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts  through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

Romans 5:3-5 (HCSB)