It is hard to recap my time spent in England. It has been about a month since I left the Manor, but the beginning of my remembering started weeks before my departure. The days drew to an end and the end drew near and my heart began to rejoice and recall and maybe even quiver just a bit. In so many ways, I feel incredibly indebted to L'Abri and the people who filled its many rooms. This is my small gift to them, perhaps it too will encourage them in their remembering.
I have been keeping these pictures to myself these last few weeks in hopes that with time the words would come to help describe these moments. But time has passed and the words are still missing and I am beginning to feel a bit selfish keeping them to myself. To me, L'Abri was a space I could be backwards in. It was a place I could be weak and still somehow feel strong, a place I could feel totally unsure and yet completely certain, a place where I could be silent but still feel heard. And that for me is the magic if it. L'Abri doesn't make sense and trying to explain it is a very exhausting task. It seems like it should be a contradiction but I found harmony. I felt like I was met there - as I was and as I could be. I felt at home there and it feels like that home is always with me, even if it is in just very small ways.
To the people who bore witness to those three months in that manor we will never forget, thank you for filling my time at L'Abri with something substantial and of precious value. You have helped me grow older and I am forever grateful.
So friends, partake, increase, enjoy, celebrate or simply observe my remembering - I believe it is worth sharing (even if it has taken me this long to share...oops!)