Nearly seven years ago I began writing this blog. This is only my 160th post (a little over 20 posts a year), but it's been enjoyable to occasionally share my thoughts with those who have taken the time to read them. There's so many great blogs and other content to absorb on the internet, so I am thankful that a few people are willing to give my voice a listen. I began this blog a couple of months after we had moved to Dublin. I called the blog "Near St. Anne's and the Sea", because when we first moved to Ireland, we lived right across the street from the amazing St. Anne's Park. And just down the road from our apartment was Dublin Bay and the Irish Sea.
After over two years, Juli and Ashlyn will get to visit both the park, the beaches on North Bull Island, and all of the other places they miss so much. I've already had the chance to visit Dublin twice this year. So, though I'm genuinely stoked to be able to be back on the little island I lovingly refer to as the "Garden of Eden of the North Atlantic", I don't think my anticipation can compare to theirs'. But, I am thankful that this time around I'll be able to experience our home away from home with my family.
As I've mentioned in another blog post or two, in this life, we're often torn. We are torn between places and people. We are torn between the here and now and the eternity still to come. We are thankful for what we have, where we're at, and the people we get to experience life with, but we also long for that which we are missing, the places we cannot be, and the people we are absent from. I believe that somehow and someway, this dilemma will be resolved in the age to come. In the meantime, we make the most of where we're at, while we're here (or there).
For the next week or so, we'll be reconnecting with those people and places we presently long for. And then, when we get back home, we'll be thankful to be back home. The good news is that Jesus will journey with us the entire way. "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." (Matthew 28:20). - Shay