And now, the end is here, and so I face the final curtain...

When I was a little girl, I used to listen to my parents' (LP) records (those that I hadn't mangled anyway). There was one of Sinatra's song 'My way'. I know that for Christians it's anathema because the focus is seemingly on self-reliance rather than trust in God, but I love that song. The sense of pragmatic joy gets me every time. Can you imagine getting to the end of your life and knowing that you've lived a good life, that you've done all you could, that you've achieved all you could, that you've lived life to the full, to overflowing? Can you imagine living a life in which you've wrung every lost drop of emotion and experience from it? What a life! With or without God, what a life!

Looking back on our time in London I can't say I've lived that kind of life. Sure, I've done some stuff, and I don't regret the things I've done. But I regret the times I didn't do - the times I could have done something and chose not to - I could have made more of an effort to go to the theatre, or see some shows, or travel to the continent. I know why I didn't, but I wish I'd made more of life while I had it.

The saddest thing of all though, is knowing that having these thoughts now won't make me make the most of life in Cape Town. I just know that, before too long, I'm going to be stuck in a nice comfortable rut. I know that, because I like being comfortable. I don't like having to do without, or making do, or pushing boundaries, or taking risks (so quite why I'm so determined to start my own business is really beyond me, except to say that I'm really excited about it!). I like my sleep, I like to laze around the house. I like to indulge myself. And none of those things are compatible with the kind of life that, at the end of it all, says - I've lived a life that I'm proud of.

If I want God to say 'well done', then I need to get off my butt and stop being so comfortable. I'm not advocating a life of 'doing stuff' - but a life of truly 'being': spending time with Nellie and Graeme, and my siblings and their families, doing a job that MAKES A DIFFERENCE, making time for those who need me (not just those who like me, or love me), most of all - making time to sit at God's feet.

Will those things happen when we move home? I don't know. I hope so. I fear not. Time to face the final curtain on this chapter of our lives...