Separation

I love it that I’ve come back from California with a bit of colour in my face. It may not be brown by many standards, but by the standards of Scotland I’m looking nearly toasted. 

Sometimes I feel so blessed to have family seven thousand miles away who love me, need me, and want me to go over as often as I can. I love being with them all; I love being back in the home of my childhood; I love the sunshine and warmth; I love the reconnections, and the donuts from Simone’s.

For years I couldn’t go back and forth as often as I do now. Flying with a family requires serious money. Once four years elapsed between visits, and I really did feel like a stranger when I got home.

I don’t feel like a stranger now; I feel like I belong in both places. I appreciate the blessings of each place, and am aware of the detractions. Maybe I understand a wide variety of viewpoints this way, and am slower to judge and condemn. I hope so.

Sometimes, I have to admit, I feel so torn by the separation that I feel kind of worn out by it. I see families who all inhabit the same city, the same town even, and think what a blessing that is. The opportunity to pop in and out, to meet for a meal or a hike or a bbq, rather than it being the all or nothing of long distance relationships. 

But then, I see people whose families all live within close proximity, and I see that sometimes tempers fray, words fly, and patience wears thin, and I see there are good things and bad things about just about any situation in which we find ourselves.

One of the blessings for me of living in a rural setting is that I spend a lot of time on my own in a truly beautiful environment. As I walk the dog, work in the garden, or notice the sky, my thoughts coalesce into prayer without any effort. I notice that when I am transplanted back to the metropolis of LA, I have to work harder to feel the presence of God. 

I know he’s there though. If I were to spend more time there, I would need to discover the thin places where that divine spark can penetrate the busyness of each day, because one thing which is crystal clear to me, is that a day without nurturing that relationship with God is a black and white day.

I want to live in technicolour.