Arriving in Maine

On Tuesday, my friend, Cathy, and I flew from our two respective cities and landed at Logan International Airport in Boston where my Mom and step-dad arrived to pick us up. Four people, from three different states all arriving in Boston within fifteen minutes of each other! Amazing! And worlds colliding... My parents have heard about Cathy for years, seen our travel photos, read our blogs, but have never actually met her. It is strange getting older and realizing that our parents only know about the intricate details of our lives indirectly. And even a bit disconcerting for one like me who has moved around so much. To realize that there is noone who really holds the continuity of my history. Noone who has walked with me through all the places I have been, through most of the experiences I have lived. My history is a patchwork quilt scattered across the country, and the world even... I suppose it makes the knowledge that God has known each of us since before we were born... and will walk with us throughout our lives both on earth and in heaven even more amazing. In a world where we are only partially known, in God we are fully known. Scary, overwhelming, comforting, and deeply moving. So, imagine the contrast of walking into my parents old farmhouse build in the 1700's, taking a stroll to a historic home on the water just a mile or so down the road, and visiting my mom's church, the first major institution in town and the center of a community that sprang up here over 300 years ago. Historic Hamilton House

View from Hamilton

The Federated Church in South Berwick