I am anxiously waiting for my pink dogwood to bloom! Sadly, it didn't bloom last year because of a heavy April frost. Those beautiful pink flowers were noticeably absent, and the view from my front porch swing was simply not the same without them. Now the springtime snow has fallen on those bare, dogwood branches. The freezing temperatures have persisted for several days. I am holding my breath and watching.
My heightened sentiment for those pink flowers has come in response to the news of our upcoming relocation to England. I have really begun to notice the things of home--to see them with very sensitive eyes. So...I continue to watch and wait for the pink of the dogwood to appear. I gaze out from my front porch with hopefulness and anticipation. For me, this is more than simply a view--it is an image of home.
I am well aware in these cool, spring days that the location of my home will soon change, and I am clinging to the image of the dogwood that is life, peace, identity, quiet, family, simplicity, joy, comfort, place, and gift (yes, a tree from my husband!). What is a dogwood in bloom here will be something else there. We will exchange one place of home for another, and we will watch with hopefulness and anticipation for home to arise.
What I ultimately recognize in this image is that the things of home translate beyond Glenville, North Carolina, even into Thatcham, England. What we have discovered throughout our years in Glenville we will joyfully rediscover in Thatcham. It will be a welcome adventure to embrace a new culture! It will be exciting to explore this English town! It will be a blessing to find home in the midst of it all! And it will be so special to have these experiences with a lively, perceptive two year old!
I am grateful for my pink dogwood tree--flowers or no flowers--because in the midst of transition, it helps me to anticipate a new view that will narrate the familiar--life, peace, identity, quiet, family, simplicity, joy, comfort, place, and gift (and maybe a new tree awaits!). I look forward to life that remains filled with these things of home. I look forward to a unique setting for life together. I look forward to gazing out from another vantage point. I look forward to a new home!
1 comments:
I'm not quite sure how to phrase this - so let me try:
After our last phone conversation (it seems years ago, now), I have thought a lot about what you've gone through and how you've explored your own self over these past two years.
Excited is the wrong word. My heart is full of hope-joy for you as you set out on this adventure with this new understanding of yourself. To undertake this experience while keeping the memory of the dogwood blooming in yourself.
I know you will find peace in your new home; I wish you peace as you prepare for the transition.
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