the migrant wife

From Charlie's point of view, life, marriage, work, family, faith, feasting.

Musings over Tea

  • The Sound of Music and the Gospel 

    The Sound of Music is hands-down my favourite musical of all time, not least because my grandad watched it with us at least once a week when we came back from nursery, resulting in an annoying recitation of well-loved dialogue any time we watched it again as a family. Recently, my husband got us tickets… Read more

  • A re-start of sorts

    An Addition. There has been a joyous addition to our family – our son who was born last year, just in to welcome spring. An addition that has pointed us heavenward for strength for each hour, he has stretched our capacity for patience, selflessness and self-discipline in ways that were much needed. A subject of… Read more

  • Good old days

    I wish we could *know* when we were living our “good old days”. I wish we could meander along, tracing back our hasty steps through hurried life and hustle, dawdle and relive the moments of bliss and laughter, and perhaps cover over the footprints made by our dragging our reluctant feet through sorrowful valleys. I… Read more

  • Small stories – Bezalel and Oholiab

    Small stories – Bezalel and Oholiab

    featured image source: yearinthebible.com A few weeks ago I wrote about the worthiness of “stories about little things”. These little stories, little snippets that leave wide margins for awe, wonder, and imagination. Bezalel and Oholiab are the first two people with small stories that I’d like to explore. If you haven’t heard of their names… Read more

  • The comfort of insignificance

    I’ve always been drawn to little and inconsequential things – stories of ordinary people, not changing the world, nor going through any dramatic transition, just letting life and all its colourful ideas (or tragic happenstance) come and pass. I adore also the stories where more ink is spilled over the leaves, the petals, the soil,… Read more

  • The Unhestitatingly Speedy Pace of Life

    The Unhestitatingly Speedy Pace of Life

    I sit on the train hurtling down the English countryside on our way down to London to visit family. Hurtling seems to be the word characterising my entire existence this season: hurried lunches wolfed down in between meetings and tasks, intensely deep conversations explored between two souls between the one-hour-limit of our appointment, plans scribbled… Read more