London, I will miss you

Don’t ask me what that big thing is…

If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. Ever heard that before?!

I have to say, I never thought that now, at 27, I would be leaving London and moving to Portsmouth. It’s the kind of thing you do when you’re older, right?! It would definitely – and I mean, definitely – not have been in my plans. Nothing against Portsmouth, I am sure it is lovely, I just love London.

But, while not in my plan, it appears to be in God’s!

Next week I am leaving London and moving to Portsmouth. I am going to work for the Bishop, a wonderful man, as his Personal Assistant. I really do feel excited and blessed to be undertaking this role and cannot wait to see what God has in store.

When God springs a new plan on you, it is really a test of your openness and docility to his will. I admit, I have not been the most gracious recipient of his plan the last few weeks mainly because I am not known to fare very well outside London, despite growing up in the Cotswolds. As soon as I moved to London I felt this was the place I was made for, I love the fast-paced way of life. (My brother will regale you with stories of a family holiday where we went kayaking on a blustery, expansive lake in the Lake District – as the wind and rain got stronger and he heroically tried to paddle to land, I didn’t do too well in my efforts not to panic and may have cried something like, “All I want is to be safely on the Tube with my caramel macchiato…”)

I have to keep reminding myself – Portsmouth is a city. They probably do sell caramel macchiato.

And hey, it’s home to water-sports! Maybe I could take up kayaking properly…

So, after listing to God all the reasons I should not leave London, after telling him how very much I love the King’s Road and all my lovely friends and not needing a car, I am happy to say that my yes to this surprising new plan is getting stronger each day.

For one thing, there is so much more space in Portsmouth. I noticed in all the gyms I searched for, the machines are spaced way apart. Which means you don’t get splattered with other people’s sweat like you do in London gyms. Hooray! All kinds of positives.

So, dear readers, I hope you will accompany me on my new adventures in Portsmouth (for my American readers, it’s a naval city on the south coast, birthplace of Charles Dickens (my favourite novelist), and home to water-sports – that’s about all I know).

And no, I won’t be working directly in catechesis This is a bit of a sacrifice, but I trust God’s plan, and hope I can still do some kind of catechesis. Every parish needs catechists, right?! And we will see where things go…

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