She died on a grey Friday afternoon.  It was November 25th, 2016. I had cried so much over the preceding two months, fighting for her life, that I had no tears left.  I numbly kissed her goodbye on her forehead but already it was lifeless and didn’t feel like hers. 

 

I didn’t notice the rain as I left the hospice to collect my four children.  They were still at school.  I would have to tell them.  How would I tell them that we’d lost her and she was gone?  I thought through all the other people I needed to inform, and the sequence that would be politic.  While dreading the four heart-breaking conversations to come, I mindlessly plodded through my phone calls one by one.  Accepting condolences.  Answering questions.  Managing peoples’ emotions.  Feeling hollowed-out of all life.  Dreading the suffering that would soon be unleashed on my children.

 

Each child took the news calmly.  There were no hysterics or theatrics.  Just a quiet, profound sadness and sense of disorientation.  They all made it easy for me.  I can’t recall the words I chose to let them know that their wonderful mummy had passed away.  I just remember holding each of them in my arms, overwhelmed with love for them, overwhelmed with our collective grief, and filled with longing for their security and wellbeing.

 

I navigated the subsequent years as a single parent, in much the same way as I managed those first conversations with the children.  Without a plan and without advice.  Just with a deep devotion to my children, and with a dependence on God to carry us.  And I cried a lot.    I held on to my kids and I held on to Jesus.  And I worked to pay the bills.  I let go of everything else and pursued no romantic relationships.  Nothing had prepared me for the intensity of the pain and sorrow that would daily overwhelm my wounded heart over the next five years.

 

When I kissed Hannah on December 1st, 2021, it was my first kiss since that day at the hospice five years earlier.  Even before we kissed, I knew I would marry Hannah.  We were engaged 21 days later and were married on Easter Saturday, 4 months later in April 2022.  We were made for each other.  She was made for my children, and they were made for her.  This is an absolute mystery, but it is true, and I had never been happier in my life.

 

When we moved into Glebe House on November 25th 2022, God redeemed that awful day of exactly six years earlier.  Before we purchased the house, we prayed and thought carefully about it, asking God whether this was really the right thing for our family.  We loved it, but it needed so much work, and we were all still in the process of healing ourselves. 

 

And God told us something beautiful and exciting.  He said that we would learn a lot about restoration, as He restored us, and as we restored the property and land of Glebe House.  But He went further, saying that His desire was to bring about a comprehensive, overflowing restoration to the wider area and community.  That His work was the restoration of all things, and that we were invited to partner with Him in His work of Restoration.

 

And so the idea of the “Restoration Partnership” was born.  An invitation to collaborate with God as He seeks to restore each of us individually, our families, and our community.  Everyone is invited, regardless of your personal beliefs about God.

 

We don’t know exactly what this will all mean, but we are taking our first steps.  Clarifying our vision for Glebe House and its grounds.  Having our hearts slowly restored.  Celebrating the arrival of our fifth child in January 2024, a little boy that brings unity, healing, and joy to our family. 

 

And now we are stepping out a little further, with the introduction of the Restoration Trail, on the public footpath east of St Barts, and a few restoration events planned over this summer.  I hope you will come and join together with others, as we seek to participate in God’s restorative work of us all and our community.

 

We don’t quite know what to expect from the future, but we are full of hope, and believe that the best is yet to come, and that the end of our story will be written here, in and around Burwash, as we partner with God, and with all of you that choose to join in this fledgling Restoration Partnership.