There was something about arriving in Broken Hill. It was so good that even two/three weeks on I still feel refreshed and full when I think of it. Our first evening was one of riddles and games. A room full of the dearest friends, laughter and we finished with singing, us girls in a heap on the couch. I knew I was home and I felt joy and thankfulness that I had four more days to come.
Each day was better than the one that went before. Breakfast, poetry, chats, jokes, op-shops, art, walks, music, music, music. Friends and God in our midst. I loved walking late at night with Milly looking up at the stars. I loved being baptised by my friend Katrina, a woman who inspires me to follow Jesus of Nazareth with my heart and life. I loved sharing it all with my friend Vanessa, who inspires me to say YES to the universe.
We went on a tour of the art galleries with a bunch of local artists. Sophie's art was my favourite - especially my Aslan, but it was great seeing all of the others. Jarrah Mosaic is a fun lovely gallery in Broken Hill. Even the long trip to Dubbo was a joy, because it was shared. Awesome times.
Still, those four days have produced in me a yearning for goodness, belonging and my place that I want to grow stronger, not weaker. A by-product of this feeling is dissatisfaction with my current situation and I need to be careful not to let that grow to discontent. Instead I want it to grow in me a love for the present, because of what we are making the future to be; and a yearning what is yet to come.