French Exchange

For 18 years, something had been bothering me, occasionally waking me up in the night, a kind of niggling, guilt-laden feeling. Well, enough was enough. Two and a bit weeks ago I Googled my French exchange partner, the one I didn't ever write back to, the one whose lovely parents I never thanked for hosting me, found her and dared to get in touch. My horrendous (eighteen year) lack of manners were speedily forgiven and today we drove 2 and a half hours and spent a lovely afternoon with them and some other friends, all so cordiale. Eighteen years, 5 daughters between us, different languages and a whole lot of life lived. I thought I was tying up a loose end, but I hope instead it's a beginning.

The broken-hearted

Tonight, just before bedtime, two big girls with broken hearts. Big Grin remembering the great-grandmother who's recently gone to glory. Little Feet lonely and missing the best friend who moved to the other side of the world a year ago. One mum with an aching heart because there's nothing I can do for them, except hold them, pray for them, listen and try to understand. I can't take the pain away. We read together how God heals the broken-hearted. Into Thy hands I place my children. May I never harden to the ache.