Leaving Glasgow always makes me a bit sad. Admittedly I feel that way about a lot of places. I think that’s the blessing and the cost of growing up a military brat. One is able to call a multitude of places “home” but one never feels rooted the way some of my friends who never left the town they grew up in do.

My birth certificate and very first passport is German, yet I’m not a German citizen. I don’t qualify for a German passport, although I surely wish I did now. Or an EU one. I have friends who often send me recommendations for countries in Europe to move to, and for the past two years Tim and I have been searching for a bolthole in the UK. We’ve found a few prospects but nothing that suits us yet.

So how is it we are able to travel so often to the UK people often ask. Well, the story is a fairly simple one. When it became obvious that the Orange wanker would once again be president to a nation of misguided religious zealots, I knew I had to leave the country or lose my ever loving mind. Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows I’ve been on a tear about this man since the summer of 2016. I was one of those people who others suggested was “over-reacting.” Well in the words of Toby Keith, “How do you like me now?” Those very same people are now filled with the rage that beset me when I heard this draft-dodger first mock the Gold Star Khan family and then Senator John McCain, who had been a POW in Vietnam. (Perhaps you’ve noticed that women in their 60s don’t feel the need to be compliant with patriarchy the way we might have in our 30s.)

As our train entered Edinburgh this morning, I asked Tim: “Why does no one ever preach about how God hates?” I mean God does hate. Scripture is clear about that. There’s a whole entire list of things God hates. Trump embodies most of them. “Besides,” I added, “one can’t love justice without hating injustices.”

I had just read a story about the deportation of the two-month old infant in Dilly Detention who had been hospitalized with bronchitis then deported within a day or two of being sent back to the detention center. So justice and mercy were heavy on my heart.

“You can’t love mercy and not hate cruelty,” I continued my inquiry. “So how come there are never any sermons about hate, other than we are told never to hate, which seems like poppycock to me. How can we love deeply if we don’t also hate deeply? How can we love our children and yet not hate those in the Trump/Epstein files who raped and abused children? How can I love my father and appreciate our family’s sacrifices without hating someone like Trump who mocks the sacrifices of families like ours?”

Tim didn’t really have any answers for me on all that. So as we headed south to Newcastle I began thinking about the poetic lines I know about sheep and pastures and rivers. He makes me to lie down by green pastures and Psalms 1:

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither— whatever they do prospers.

All the green pastures and silver waters and sheep on the hillsides are a few of the reasons why I love being in the UK.

When I realized we were up for four more years of this mocking vile president, I began to look for ways to get out of America. That’s when I learned about house swaps. I missed the movie about holiday swaps, and I can’t tell you exactly how I found the house swap sites that I use other than sheer desperation.

I typed in countries I’ve been to already: France, Spain, Germany, Scotland, etc. I typed in passport. I typed in ex-pat. I just kept going and before the evening of Nov. 5th was up, I’d hit on a home swap site called Home Base Holidays.

Unbeknown to me, the idea of swap homes for holidays (vacations) is actually common throughout Europe. I explored the site and then told Tim I was going to sign us up. He sort of shrugged me off and went back to playing chess on his iPad which is his form of a mood-altering drug.

I set a goal for us: Get out of the country before the inauguration. I started sending out requests per the instructions provided. A few weeks later I got a response. A couple in Hebden Bridge, an area of the UK I’d never heard of, wrote back to say they’d be interested in pursuing a swap.

We picked dates, set up a Zoom call, and worked on the details. Ultimately, they ended up going to Spain for warm weather instead of coming to Oregon but they very generously gave us their place while they were away.

And if you know, you know: Hebden Bridge was amazing. Their home was an easy hike from the gravesite where Sylvia Plath is buried. The hiking for the five weeks we were away was idyllic. Did I mention the Yorkshires? The canal walks? Happy Valley? Halifax anyone?

I get home swapping isn’t for everyone but for us it’s been beyond everything we could have hoped for or afforded. We’ve made some cherised friends. We’ve seen parts of the world we would never have seen otherwise. We’ve been reminded of the remarkable kindnesses of humanity. We’ve had numerous encounters with people from around the world who are as concerned about the future of America and fearful over the whims of the madman in office as we are, like the cab driver today whose parting words to me were “I will be praying for you and for America.”

On this Ash Wednesday, those were healing words.

Obviously no one serving in this current administration follows the laws of Leviticus: When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.

Or the one in Matthew: For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.

Or even the one from Hebrew: Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

But there are people all over the world who are carrying out the will of God with open arms and open hearts. Kindhearted, goodhearted, hospitable people who are so worried about those of us living in a country ruled by the whims of a cruel man.

“I think this man has a demon,” our cabbie said.

“Or is one,” I replied.

Don’t despair, people around the world are praying for us Americans to rise above the demons that have beset us.

Meanwhile if you want more information about swap sites like Home Base or Home Link feel free to drop me a message here or via email.