My kids have been asking me about my childhood a lot of late, which made me think. Isn't it funny how things change? I remember when I was 18 I dreamt of driving a rally to experience the freedom and hardships of a rally driver. I loved my little car which was a Trabant. He was really fun to drive and I knew how to deal with him when he was naughty. My friends from way back then might remember being bundled into the back and paying for their ride only to be involved in a race with the PE teacher in his VW. We lost but than again a Trabant is not made for all that many people AND to race. But hey. NOW? I don't even own a car. I haven't driven one for such a long time I think I'd freak out. Strange isn't it?
I'm going home next month, only for a few days. This time I'm taking my 15 year old daughter and my 3 year old son. She is a typical teenager and really could do with some fresh air. He is extremely active and full of beans. I'm hoping to take them back to my roots. Okay we are only going to be there for a few days and as it is a home visit we'll be busy seeing people. But we are hoping to go into the woods to see God's creatures in their natural habitats. We shall fish for creatures from the brook (and put them back after), name and climb trees, make bow and arrows (no plastic involved) and much more. I do feel really close to the lord back home in these woods much closer than I could at church. So this should recharge my batteries and hopefully open my children's eyes as who their mum REALLY is (or was?)