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When we decided to have a “more than you bargain for” size family, my husband and I had to calculate the cost. For me, I believed I would be sacrificing the freedom to have coffee with the girls and of any acceptance to ‘normalness‘, of ever being your average family. Hey! I was young!

For my man, his measuring stick was not anyway the same as mine. Apparently, different didn’t concern him nor did the perceived lack of freedom or belonging. What he did lay on the altar of self though was any possibility to own his Porsche. Didn’t know many sports cars suitable for offspring unless a trailer became an option.

And I know. When you consider what we gave up for our children’s lives, our sacrifices do look fairly piddly. But they were still real …. ARE still real although shrinking as eternal perspective becomes clearer.

Fast forward twenty years, ten children and a lifestyle that neither of us could have predicted. Our choices haven’t become overwhelmingly popular even though many desire our outcomes.

But richness IS our constant companion. Why? Cause we’re wise; clever even? Bah Ha!

Seek first …. stuff, bling, notoriety, friends, cash. Yup. I’m guilty. But apparently I have also done a little ‘Him’ seeking too because …… ‘all these things’ have come unto us in proportion. Not in the package I initially imagined; different but way better.

The indescribable climax of a season had the legs of a Mazda MX5. A surprise for just a weekend for my man but in it’s outworking, my God spared nothing.

Entertain the image of driving through the Grand National Park with mist rising, past weirs, around tree encompassed bends, roof open and breeze enticing, music enhancing this journey like the accompaniment to a movie staring my man, routing over the Sea Cliff Bridge and climaxing along a plethora of coastal villages.

An indescribably delicious few days. But the experience was only the vehicle of reaping juicy fruit from seeds sown a thousand choices ago.

Let me tell you. It was very nice packaging but the substance wasn’t in the nuts and bolts that we rode in [as well put together as they were].

It was in the emotional distance we had travelled before, together, but also individually. Each time we responded to His nudging, a t- intersection was encountered. All choices toward human suffering, be it a skinned knee or trafficking, was a cross road. Every offence we forgave fueled our vehicle. The smallest decision to rightness, in love not in legalism, pointed us into a more direct route to our desired destination.

Most of this journey was completed metaphorically in a 12 seater Transit Bus way before our weekend. But the final leg, the cherry on the cake, we got to travel in style.

And here’s some irony. In the picture above, the sign says I am at Bus Stop Flats …


… whats in that?