The way things have gone for me, I don’t really have a ‘home’ anymore: I tell people I’m going home to Britain, or home to Sheffield, or home to Devon, or home to NZ, but none of that is really true. The only real home-places I have now are the Moors – the Peak District and Dartmoor. These 2 places feel like a great big living room for me – I can quite happily lay around all day and be at home.
Lots of us nowadays talk about ‘Thin Places’: where God is just a lot closer. To me, Devon (where my parents live) is generally a pretty Thick Place, and that makes feeling alive pretty tough. But yesterday, up on the Moor, it just WORKS, y’know? It’s not just because it’s pretty (though it is: endless heather, fern, grass & gorse, the occasional tor and even more occasional stone-age hut), but because I’m a physical touch kind of person – it’s SO WINDY up there, I just feel like God loves me! He plays with my hair 🙂