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Showing posts from 2016

Roots

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Moving is hard, period. It doesn't matter if you move up the street or across the country or even around the world. It's all hard. (I should know--I've done all three.) We've moved nine times in less than seven years. I used to love it. I would just start to get annoyed by one particular thing in our home, and then find out shortly after that we were moving. It worked. It was like a brand new canvas, erasing all the quirks of the previous house and giving me a clean slate to work with. But then one day two years ago, I wasn't excited any more. I wanted a home . I wanted to be able to enjoy a place without the next move looming over me. At the same time, I didn't know how  to do that. Our entire marriage consisted of one move after another. We had never "settled in" or painted or made a place our own. It was scary. Right around this time, my Abba whispered to me that it was time to put down roots. A part of me wanted that security of a home,

Waiting

"It's hard to wait, Mom." I probably hear it five or ten times a day some days...the voice of a little girl reminding me that patience is not her strongest of virtues. I tell her "I'm sorry" or "You'll have to be patient" but inside I think to myself that someday she'll know waiting is just part of this thing called life. It's not easy though. I found myself looking for an old toy tonight--a toy Selah used to play with and decided she wanted to cuddle again. I dug through tubs of her old clothes in the garage, fingered through maternity outfits, and ended up in the baby room touching sacred little outfits yet unworn. That's when it happened. As I touched the baby clothes, I found myself mirroring my girl as I whispered in the depths of my heart: "It's hard to wait, Abba." It's not even that I doubt His goodness or His faithfulness. And I know His timing is best. I know  He will bless us with another c

A Little Goodbye

Ever since we moved into our home a year ago, we have had a room designated as "the baby room." Over the course of that year, our references to that room in general conversation have drawn more than a few raised eyebrows, especially when we clarify that we are not expecting. Call it what you will--expectancy, or hope, or just a need to have somewhere to put the gazillion baby things we have. It's our baby room. I realized today that that room has been driving me nuts. Over the course of the past five or six months, I've really struggled with waiting on God. All of the feelings I dealt with around this time last year were back--of just wrestling with God's timing, of wanting something different than my reality. And each month, there was/is that awful reminder that my dream has failed to become real...again. Needless to say, it's been hard. Back to the room. Several months ago...(ahem, almost a year ago), we bought new doors to install in three of our