I meander slowly up a neighboring hill on a cool, sunny, spring Sunday morning in Loughton, Essex. I pause for a moment to enjoy the view overlooking this quaint, old town. My town…home. I take in everything from the rows of brick homes on the distant hillside to the budding branches of a tree near me. The air shimmers and the translucent light springs lightly from rooftop to tree branch to the wet grass at my feet. To my left is an empty, green cricket field and to my right, a 200 year old mansion restored to full splendor. The wind is brisk and I breathe in the glorious sweetness of it.
Nothing will move me from this spot as I am filled with wonder. How did I get here? How did I get from my small town in Utah to this charming suburb of London, England? I pause to remember the hard work, sacrifice from others, faith and lots of prayers it took me to get here…and I am filled with so much gratitude and joy that I wish I could share it with the world. And suddenly, as if on cue, distant church bells ring out across the hills.
And there it is…a reminder of how I came to be here. I was meant to be here. This place has been calling to my soul for many years. It took time for me to hear the call and time for everything to fall into place just right, but it did and I am at peace.
And so it begins…this new adventure and chapter of my life. This blog will be filled with my adventures of the everyday (and the not-so-everyday) experiences. I feel I am on the cusp of the best part of my life and I am brimming with excitement at what it will bring. The wallflower has finally blossomed and she turns her face up to drink in the sun.