One Last Day, But It's Not the Same

It's different, very different.
And I love that when I will get to say, "Last December in Belfast" it will not be followed with tears. It will be followed with joy.

David (you absolutely remember David, my sweet, wonderful houseman and groundskeeper)  had stopped by the house twice yesterday to see me, but I'd been away at uni all day.

8am it was! And my reserved, British friend kissed me right on the face. Ha!

I hate that the picture is blurry, but I do enjoy having him in photo form. David will never know or be able to understand the depth to which his practical mercy on me touched my life.
Like the time I came in to see a tulip on the counter and, when I thanked him on my way out the door (he was in the garden), he told me, "Musta been a nail or somethin' break it. Found it on the ground. Thought you could talk to it."

Or the time just after the team left, my boyfriend left, and my nephew entered the world (it was a big three days) and I was alone and sad, he came and found me and asked if I would like to put up the Christmas decorations. David does not ask anyone to do anything. He does things. You would understand if you knew David, but that was his way of taking care of, giving me something to do, something to feel a part of. David is a very good man.

Another very good man collected me for tea just after--Hadden. :)
He was my boss over in Belfast, coordinating JBU activities there. We talked over programme information and life stuff.
Getting back into his car after dropping me off (not even facing me), he said, "Let that young man of yours know that if he doesn't treat you right...I'll kill him". Then drove off.
And he's from Belfast, so you know he ain't lyin'.

Next came Amy and Matt.
We hung out at Lakeside, went to city centre, went out for lunch at a fun little pub, shopped a bit, roamed the Christmas market, took the party back home again, watched Everything is Illuminated, and just had a really good time.

When Amy left, Lauren appeared. :)

Last cuddles all around.

Home is a place you fight for. Home is a place that knows you, that you feel known in. Home is a place you feel wanted and loved. When I left for Oklahoma last December, Belfast was not my home. What a blessing, what a treasure, that it was when I stepped off the plane just one year later.

Lakeside, Belfast, my friends (and a lot of Starbucks goers) saw my soul stripped naked, saw me broken, and saw the Lord rise me up again.
And for that, for seeing, for staying, for speaking out truth, they became my home.