January 2015 – Just another Christian woman…

The title of this blogpost will surely, one day, be the title of a book. I will write of how I took the 300 (ish) mile journey from Kildare, Ireland to Newport, South Wales – only to find that I might as well have come from the centre of a densely populated (but only by trees and macaws) jungle.

We have been here over a month and we are still filling out forms. Long forms, with tiny boxes, wanting nitty, not forgetting that gritty, information about who we are, where we have been and what emissions we are emitting into beautiful Welsh air; from our car, you understand.

We’ve gone through the job seekers allowance application twice since we got here (that must be some kind of record). We made the mistake of leaving the country for a few days, so had to close down the claim and reopen it. Having lived in the UK before, I have a UK National Insurance Number already. A huge relief, as I’m not sure there’s enough ink in my pen to fill in that form.

Job hunting has begun in earnest and there’s one application and impending interview that I’m very excited about. If you’re of the praying persuasion, do please pray for God’s will in that one.

I get that there have to be checks to make sure people are who they say they are. I’m happy to wait my turn in the dole office and actually BE a jobseeker to get Job Seekers Allowance. Having been an NHS patient before, I am REALLY grateful for the health service. It’s not perfect, and many may think it’s a shambles. In Ireland, you PAY for the shambles, so I’m happy to wait my turn in a doctor’s surgery here too… That reminds me; I must register with a doctor. (Note to self, buy another pen!)

I will make one complaint, that is the process of reregistering the car from Irish reg to UK reg. That is still not done, as the hurdles we have to jump would challenge Red Rum on his best day. As well as it being complicated, it has turned out to be very, VERY expensive. So if you’re considering importing your car from Ireland to the UK, my advice is… don’t. I’m not kidding; had I known, I’d have sold mine and taken the loss on the chin.

Having said all that we’re very happy to be here. Enjoying being back in Malpas Road Evangelical Church, and hopeful for the future.

My heart is in Ireland, always will be. Difference this time is, it’s not broken to be away from Ireland. Thanks God for that.

photo credit: amandabhslater via photopin cc

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I can still say that can’t I? I’m never sure when it’s too late to wish someone a happy new year… I’ve probably come back just in time.

Speaking of my absence… I’m delighted to see that even though it’s a month since I’ve written here, you’ve still been checking in and having a read. Thanks for that. As always, it’s much appreciated.

In case you missed it though, I’m now living in South Wales; the homeland of my husband. I’ve lived here before, so it kinda feels like home anyway. We moved back just before Christmas, so the last few weeks has been a haze of boxes – thankfully some of them were covered in Christmas paper.

This week we’ve spent a lot of our time filling in forms and taking or sending those forms to the relevant office to be processed. Bank accounts, registering the car, applying for job seekers allowance, applying for jobs. I’ve written my new mobile phone number so many times, I nearly remember it. (I’m not great memorising numbers – so this is a bigger feat than you realise.) I confess, a lot of it has been tiresome, answering the same questions repeatedly, trying to ‘prove’ who we are and where we live. Times like these can make me want to keep my head down. “Just leave me to do what I need to do, I’ll pay attention to that other thing when I’m done.”

Since I’ve written here last, Glasgow has had its 2nd tragic event in 2 years, another plane somehow fell out of the sky in Asia, and it seems the whole of Paris is on a lock-down as they try to track the terrorists who shot 12 people.

I don’t want to look up.

I want to stay buried in the humdrum of bureaucracy. I can feel the call to look up, to look around and take in what is happening; I’m resisting it. The form filling is boring, and safe. And now that I’m nearly done with it, I wish I wasn’t!

I’m not sure what it is God wants me to understand or learn. I don’t know what it means and I’m not sure how to respond; but He is demanding my attention.

photo credit: runnx via photopin cc