Rain falls in buckets as I sit at my writing desk. The walls are empty save a few nails where pictures once hung collecting glances. Boxes with “UK” written in bold black marker replace couches, chairs and tables that now don price tags at consignment shops.
Starkness in our home means our long awaited transition to London is becoming a reality and I have little time to write or think.
But today, I’m sharing a story I haven’t told you about yet. How all this extra time on the calendar while we wait has opened up sacred portals to secret places of the heart.
Join me at Grace Table where we are talking about the riches of quiet hospitality this month. Sometimes your painful wilderness comes with redemption when you least expect it.