I wasn’t born in Lincoln, but further South in Suffolk.
I lived for longer in Milton Keynes (almost 26 years).
However, ask me where I grew up and where I call my home town and I will tell you Lincoln.
We moved into the very same house from which I am writing this blog way back in December 1972.
Dad had just got a job here and we moved away from Haverhill on the Suffolk / Essex border. I was almost 7 years old, my brother just 5 – we did not want to go but life moved on and Lincoln was the town of our childhood and adolescence. The place I went to school, and even though I left at 18 and gladly headed to Nottingham University it is the place I call home.
It helps that mum still lives in the same house after 45 years. Maybe it would be different had my parents moved more but now as I am forced to return to the UK and with no other place (we sold our house in MK when we moved overses) there is a completeness in the process.
Lincoln is the place where I began my Christian faith and mum still is part of the church I joined in 1982, to which she and my brother came in the weeks and months following. It is the place he met his future wife and although both of us returned south to MK and Harlow respectively the roots run deep.
It is going to be interesting to set up our lives here again.
At the moment it’s just me and Mum. In July Anita and Rebekah leave Tanzania and join me here and our new life as a family begins.
The treatment and care I will get in the town makes living here a must. The need for a stable sixth form place for Bekah insures at least two years of not longer.
It is strange to think our international life is over or at least on hold. I am gutted that I will not after all be living and working on the Seychelles as was planned.
As a Christian, I take the view that God is in this but I am struggling to see why the path has gone so awry and so suddenly. There is anger and disappointment, frustration and fear. All those things you get in some of the Psalms of the Old Testament, but I will not rant here.
Whilst here in the UK I hope to revisit my other home MK, strong ties there mean we have good friends and a fabulous church in St Mary’s which still support us three years after we left. Social media has helped us keep in touch and will continue to do so.
Mwanza will indelibly be part of our life and though I will almost certainly never return there I hope that the same social media will continue to kindle friendship there for the foreseeable future until all we knew there have moved on themselves.
For now Lincoln is a place to find rest and solace, to be treated and to recover, to be renewed. In these circumstances I cannot think of a better place to be and I am looking forward to renewing my acquaintance.