In the right place

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I sat on the playground bench and exhaled: I’d made it before the bell. After a day of niggling, behind-the-scenes, ‘can’t quite name it’-anxiety, I was finally in the right place with time to spare.

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Last week was ‘an out of my depth in deep water’-kind of a week. If I’d stopped splashing for long enough, I may have been able to work out if I was actually swimming or if it was only my wildly flailing limbs that were keeping me afloat.

This week, I’m in mind of a well-shaken glitter globe, it’s whirling sparkles only just finally beginning to slow.

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Things haven’t felt quite right for a while, but that’s okay, you know? You expect to feel disoriented when everything changes, as it has in my world recently.

Like a plant tentatively pushing out roots into a new pot, I’ve always known that some things just take time and feeling at home somewhere new is definitely one of those things.

But sometimes it feels good to just stop and breathe, you know? To tell yourself that you’re doing okay; that you’re maybe even a little bit proud of you, proud of how you’re coping with it all.

An inner pat-on-the-back, if you like. We girls don’t do that sort of thing enough, do we?

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“You’re in the right place,” I reassured myself silently, decisively adding a word of kindness to the repeat chorus of critical regulars in my head; “On this bench, in this playground, waiting for your girl: you’re in the right place.”

Then, entirely unexpected, I sensed something ‘other’ land firmly in my very core:

“You are in the right place,” God echoed simply. Perhaps He nodded and twiddled with His beard, I’m not sure.

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The right place to collect the girl, yes. But also the right place on this island; the right place in this ministry. The right place to take the steps that are prepared for me to take next.

And maybe even the right place in terms of Design Team-less freedom – freedom to better respond to His brief, perhaps?

Woah.

The playground filled up with happy, chattering children: hop-scotch, PE kits, messy plaits and what might be for tea.

‘Heaven in the ordinary’: how incredibly precious.