Doing Good

Last night at church our sermon was on the verse from Titus, "be ready to do whatever is good". The minister talked about volunteering even when you don't feel like it, looking out for opportunities to encourage, etc, but I must admit I felt a little bit flummoxed. My own life, especially in a new place where I don't know many people at all, feels as if it is very few opportunities to do good, at least outside my family. My average weekday has me ferrying children to and fro, making meals, doing laundry, and writing. My only interactions are the chitchat on the school run (and even that is limited--today it was raining, and I drove) and the occasional conversation in a shop or the library that rarely rises above the banal. Admittedly I am hoping this will change when I meet a few more people, whenever that happens. But how to do good in my wider community? How to make a difference?

That got me thinking about writing, and whether the stories I tell are 'doing good'. I like to think so, although part of me doubts whether one of my frothy romances really does much good in this world! But I have received emails and letters from readers who have been touched by my stories and in some cases encouraged to think deeply about certain issues, and for that I am grateful.

I suppose every one of us has to consider what good we are doing in the world. Our tendency is to default to ourselves--look at any two year old hoarding her toys--but we also desire to do good, to make a positive difference, in part, I think, because it makes us feel good. My children started to experience this when they began picking out presents for their siblings at Christmas. They were all far more excited to give than to receive. My husband and I continue to try to show them ways to serve rather than be served, but in all honesty it is increasingly hard in this self-sufficient world where people hoard their privacy and hide behind electronic devices. Still, we need to try.

So here I am on a rainy Monday morning, sitting at my kitchen table wondering how to make a difference in this world. I guess it's time to start writing!

Hope Amidst Uncertainty

It has been a hard few months for our family, our church, our school, and our whole village as things end, people move away, and life moves into a new and uncertain phase. We will be leaving our Cumbrian village in a month's time, and I will start blogging about a different sort of village life, down in the sunnier Cotswolds.

But for now, amidst all the uncertainty, stress, chaos, and pain, I cling to hope that things can get better, that God has a plan, that children will adjust, and life will even out.

This is a photo taken the other day when we are having dinner with some parishioners. It is the most complete rainbow I've ever seen; you almost want to start looking for the pot of gold! It cheered me up, and I hope it does you as well, if you need cheering!

Another village life

As I mentioned in my last post, it has been a very tumultuous month, with many ups and downs, and much (too much!) emotion. But at least one thing is settled; my husband has found a job and we will be exchanging a Cumbrian life for a Cotswoldian (is that even a word?) one.

It feels very odd and unsettling to contemplate moving. We came here four years ago intending to stay for decades, hopefully until my husband's retirement. It felt wonderful, like sinking into a hot bubble bath, to know you didn't have to move. To consider the next few years and be able to build into people, places, institutions and ideas, knowing you would be there to see things through.

In what felt like a moment all that comfort and security was gone, which I suppose shows me how fleeting and temporal this life really is. That notion has been brought home to me by my father's illness as well. How is it that one moment you can feel as if life stretches before you in an endless golden line of days, and in the next it feels as if it has been all snatched and scattered?

Well, back to the good news, or goodish news. We are moving to the Cotswolds, near Oxford. I'm not exactly sure what village we'll be living in, as we are still looking for a house to rent. But I suspect it will look something like this:

And yet I shall miss our village's steeply winding street, the glorious view of the fells and sea, even the bitter wind! I shall miss everything here, because I came here expecting to stay and now have discovered I can't.

But life is funny that way. Our ways are not God's ways, and I trust that He knows what He is doing in this as in all things. But it still feels hard and disappointing now, even though I am grateful that we have somewhere to go. And so my Cumbrian life will become my Cotswold life. I don't think I shall change the name of my blog, but watch this space for the further adventures of a village life!