This blog has evolved yet again, and after a year of quiet, I hope to resurrect it for my musings on life as a stranger in a foreign land.  Sunlight might mean more to me after three years in the United Kingdom, and not only because it is a rarity here.  The quality of light here seems that much more brilliant for its fleeting nature, and it reveals a beauty hidden behind the gray facade worth waiting around for.  I have thought on more than one occasion that when the weather is nice, it doesn’t get any prettier than the English countryside.

The weather isn’t always nice, though, and as any Londoner will remind you, it’s bound to get worse any minute now.  So we bundle up and arm ourselves against the rain and put our heads down to get through the short days of winter as if the sun weren’t really up there all the while.  It occurs to me that life in the UK has taught me an awful lot about faith just by its weather patterns.  If I didn’t remember the glorious long days of summer and believe they’d eventually come round again, I might chuck it all in tomorrow.  Instead I’ll choose to believe that God gave us seasons for good reason, and that the sun hasn’t disappeared just because the earth has tilted back for a long winter’s nap and allowed a few clouds to get in the way.  He might just shed light on something hidden by summer’s bounty.