I write this in Scotland, some 100 kilometres as the raven flies (more like 300 by roads owing to Scotland's geography) from the ruin of our ancestral farmhouse. I had hoped to make a pilgrimage there with our hosts, one of whom is a distant cousin. The relationship is on my mother's side.
They are excellent hosts, and I am glad to be related to Kenneth, however distantly. However, they are getting on in years, and the trip to the ancestral ruin really would be more trouble for them than it is worth to me. So, we go to other places, see other things.
This trip has been a succession of rethinking of original plans to the point where I am simply under the mercy and going in the same direction as the currents of the given day, wherever that might take us. That is probably the lesson of this time away--surrender to whatever God has in mind.
Tomorrow, we travel to the highlands of Scotland for a few more days, before we are due to return to Canada. Tomorrow is a long time...