waiting.

sometimes patiently. 

sometimes not. 

but trusting. 

and waiting.

Staying still.

We are packing up and heading home in 20 days. 

20 days. 

And...

We have no house. 

Oh. My.

Oh. No.

Oh. ______. 

The story is long and I am weary of telling it at this point.

This week has been even longer and I need it to end. 

Who does this? 

I mean really, 3 kids, no 'real' job, no place to live.

Who does this?

I know other people do, but not me. Other braver people.

I like the steady. The predictable. The safe. 

But as it turns out, we're being asked to do this.

It feels like I'm caught in blankets that are wrapped up too tightly around me, but I can't actually imagine us in any other place or wish we were doing anything different. So I'm desperately trying to just stay still.

I read this tonight and felt peace come to places that have wanted to do anything but stay still these last few days.

So, if you're serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which God presides. Don't shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the thing right in front of you. Look up and be alert to what is going on around Christ - that's where the action is. See things from his perspective.

Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life - even though invisible to spectators is with Christ in God.  Colossians 3:1-3

In our old life we never would have done this. 

But now... now it's us.   
We do this.

perfection

This boy is breaking my heart.

His debilitating need for perfection so closely mirrors my own.

And I'm drowning trying to love him through it.

I'm sputtering out flimsy words trying to pray him through it.

I'm trying.

But this perfection beast in me still roars so loud that I feel useless at best.

A complete hypocrite at worst.

The imperfection of perfectionism handed down.

Heartbreak. 

The pre movie night movie.

I'm calling an end to this wreck of a day with a little pre movie night movie.

Passing out on the floor in my newly thrifted (peach, grey, and cream!) afghan until Rob finally gets here?

Yes please.

Holidays

Thanks to some beyond generous friends, we packed up last week and headed to the mountains.

It was perfect.

Nothing to do but play and rest.

A little skiing, some tobogganing, manicures and wii. 

A fireplace and a view.

See?

Perfect.

Homeschool

I am still convinced that this is the right choice for us. 

God is gently, well... mostly gently, teaching Ephram and I how to journey through this together.

I am grateful for the good days.

And trying to breathe through the bad days. 

It has never felt so important to keep sight of the big picture. 

Each day keeping sight of the big picture.

The Big Picture.

His education. 

I can do this.

maybe?

I am supposed to do this. 

I know I am.

So we plod on.
Not as fast as we 'should' be.
But committed to getting to our destination.
Together.

A date with my sewing machine.

Finally, FINALLY! I pulled out my machine, cut into some fabric, and gave these rusty sewing fingers a chance to make again.

Over the holidays my parents gave us their old Danish dining room table. The one I grew up living life around. Sitting there in the company of my machine, sewing for my little girly, I was reminded of so many moments watching my mom, at the very same table, sewing for hers. I love that.

It felt refreshing and inspiring to hear the hum of the machine. It felt good to create again. Wren got a new sweater to boot. So all around, a really wonderful date with my sewing machine. I need more of these.

Because Rob's gone.

And I miss him.

...And the kids are driving me crazy and I need a minute or two (or 4 minutes and 37 seconds) of peace.

But mostly because I miss him.

My blue rainbow.

After carrying and giving birth to Wren there was little left of my faith. 

I felt like I had been dismantled and broken piles of me were all over the place. 

Bits and pieces of the person I used to be were all that were left and even though I had just been blessed with this lovely, healthy little creature (x3) I wondered if God was really... there. 

This pregnancy was like nothing I had ever experienced before. 

I was low. 

So very low.

And then God started putting me back together. 

Little by little, piece by piece.

My heart was being coaxed back into health.

Faith being restored.

Faith that used to be counterfeit in many ways traded in for quite possibly a smaller measure but a measure that was genuine and worth more than all the stacks of counterfeit I had before.

And it started with these blues.

 

A reminder.

You can call it genetics. A lesson in probability. Whatever you want. 

But to me, a rainbow. 

Bike riding in January