When we arrived in England at the end of 2018, the idea was for this to be a two-year experiment with the option to extend. The beginning of December marked the end of that two year period, and although we’ve obviously decided to stick around for a while, I thought it might be helpful to look back at the original experiment and see how things are going.

Kyla and I of two minds in how well things got started. She looks back on that first chaotic month with nostalgia…..remembering it still makes me sick to my stomach. The flight to London, train trip to Manchester for classes, staying in a dreary AirBNB, living in a hotel…..not experiences I would want to repeat. Nor would I want to repeat the first two months of being without a job. I know that I’ve been extremely blessed to be in a fairly “recession-proof” career. I mean, in the United Methodist Church, I was literally guaranteed a job. Stepping out of that into the congregational system was scary enough, but to move to a country where my credentials counted for nothing? What was I thinking? Sitting around the house every day, watching the credit card debt mount was terrifying. I can admit now that I sank into pretty deep depression starting then. Depression that lasted quite some time, if I’m being completely honest.

Getting a job at Hemmersbach helped a bit. While I’ve been clear about the fact that it wasn’t my calling, I did make some very good friends, without whom I probably wouldn’t have made it through (you know who you are. I miss you). The real salvation for me, however, came through our church. As ministers, I think we tend to leave a bit of ourselves at every church we’ve been at, but I have to say that London Street URC in Basingstoke became my touchstone for the first 18 months we were in England. Weekdays kind of fade into oblivion, but I can still remember nearly every Sunday we were in the church. The minister, the leadership, the members….we were instantly valued and loved and for the first time it wasn’t because they “had” to because I was the minister. I will forever be grateful to London Street and its people.

In contrast to my slow start in England, Kyla was instantly at home here. She embraced the challenges of learning a completely new approach to nursing. Even though she admits that she likes her job a bit more in the States, she happily worked 12 hour shifts and then did an hour bus and walk home, because she was in a country she loved and was experiencing new things every day.

As for the girls….well, to be honest, they barely acted as if there was any difference. There was never a bit of complaining about learning a new school system, or having to make new friends, or living in a house half the size they were used to, or even leaving everyone and everything they knew. There were a few tearful nights missing grandparents, but they honestly adapted so much better than I did myself.

For me, things got better after the first year. Twelve months after arriving, the United Reformed Church held interviews and I was approved for ministry. After that, things moved fast. Even with the pandemic, and lockdown, starting a few months later, the moderator in the URC made sure that things were always moving forward in getting me connected with a church call. Although I got more comfortable at Hemmersbach, and deepened by friendships there, I still wasn’t cut out to be chained to a desk all day long.

Which brings me to the past three months. I have to admit that starting a new ministry in the midst of a pandemic was not the brightest idea I’ve ever had. I’ve yet to meet 1/3 of my parishioners, and of those I have met, the interactions have largely been…superficial? cursory? Don’t get me wrong, the people of Godalming United have been amazing. I just wish I could get to know them better, but without being allowed to do face-to-face visitation, it’s hard to connect. I’ve kind of decided to view myself as an interim for the duration of the pandemic. Not that I’m going anywhere when it’s over, but I’ve accepted the fact that my ministry here can’t really begin until we’ve returned to some semblance of normalcy.

I have no regrets, though. I’m far happier overall than I have been since we left the States. Which ultimately, I think, leads me to the lesson that I’ve learned the most over the past two years: it’s not “the where” for me, but “the what”.

When we left Evansville, I was on the verge of leaving ministry. The suicide of one of my best friends had affected me greatly, and I was ready to just walk away. Every minister goes through these times of doubt, sometimes every few years, but I’m not sure I ever will again. It’s been proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that “the what” for me is ministry. It’s the only thing I do well. The only thing I really feel satisfied doing. Although we were very happy in Evansville with the people of St. John’s UCC, I’m not sure I would have made it there, because I think I would have continued to be plagued by doubts and uncertainty over my calling. Stepping away from ministry for a time was one of the most painful experiences of my life, but now I think it was a necessary one to prove to myself who I am and where I belong: behind a pulpit.

While I wouldn’t want to repeat the last two years, I am extremely grateful for what I’ve learned about myself during this time. I feel that now I can really start to enjoy the experiences of this new country that I find myself in. There’s a lot of adventures ahead in the years to come.