Two out of four of our children have left home to go to university. Both days are indelibly printed in my mind as highly charged with emotion, excitement and trepidation for us as parents and for them. Dropping them off was a flurry of suitcases, bags, boxes, all of their possessions squeezed into the car and then dumped on a Cardiff/London pavement. New people were greeted, rooms discovered, hugs and kisses then we depart, leaving our precious cargo and escaping to the car before tears overwhelmed us. Hopes were high for us and for them, were they ready for this big, brave new step?
On Thursday I had another kind of leaving home. In my car this time was a lady I’ve known for many years, prayed for, agonized over and pleaded with. This day she came to me and told me “it’s the end, I can’t do it any more” She phoned Betel and two hours later I was making the journey to Watford in the rush hour! The place we took her to was in a beautiful village with a grassy green and neat brick cottages. Smiling faces greeted us and ushered us in to a hall with a large cloth covered table and the inevitable welcome cup of tea. This was no university but a similarly momentous occasion for a new beginning with all the fear and uncertainty that involves. Her possessions were in a small carrier bag, the total of a 42 year life scrambled together all in a rush. She was very frightened but determined so as we left her behind with six strangers. We held our breath and prayed to our heavenly Father that he would keep her, hold her, help her in the traumatic days ahead and that from these shaky beginnings a new woman would emerge- free, whole and transformed.