How do you live with your own broken heart? We all have them and all fear them. We all struggle with our daily brokenness, just as much as we try avoiding it. At least I do. All the time. Pretend... Continue Reading →
Last week was a week with mixed feelings. Besides spending lots of time at work, it was also a week with goodbyes. In general I like goodbyes to be a bit of celebration. Because I always hope it's a 'see you again', if not here, then in heaven. Yet loss can also be very, very real and too definite. Especially when you haven't had a chance to say goodbye properly.
It's Sunday evening. I am watching Call the Midwife on BBC one. The intro of the series starts with an opening from diary of a midwife. "Chapter 1. Why did I even start this?" It's exactly the thought that I have been having during the past week. I wasn't feeling well, didn't have much energy and didn't really have any inspiration. But this weekend I also saw some special friends that I hadn't seen a long while. Most of them I hadn't seen since I started this blog, but quite a few of them have been following my stories to my surprise. Some asked me how I managed to keep it up. The answer came to me somewhere on the walk through the city. It takes practice. The practice of love and loyalty.
I would like to share a story with you. A story that I started reading about a week ago. I've been reading bits and pieces every night in the last week. It's a story that I have known ever since I was a child. A story that triggered my childhood fantasy. A story that inspired me as a young leader. A story that fascinated me from the perspective of being a sister. A story that continues to give me input in making life decisions. So here it is, my own take on a very old story.