I have been in a funk of sorts, despairing at all the crummy news around me. We had a great weekend away with family, good, uplifting, outdoor fun and then returned home to learn about both Callahan’s accident and the incident below. Perhaps the last days are upon us, or perhaps this is simply reality that I choose to turn away from in my sheltered, comfortable life, but either way the darkness takes it’s toll on me. As I’ve talked with a few family members about how to help in certain dark situations, the advice has been that a hand-written note is more meaningful than a text or email and that sometimes our role is simply to mourn with those who mourn. It’s a bit of a helpless position, but I believe in the role of the Comforter and know that He is powerful and in control.
I also have been consumed with a little impatience as we feel ready for another child in our family and haven’t felt any action or movement toward that end from those helping us in our endeavors. It is a situation that is a balance between doing all we can and still knowing that it will happen in it’s own time as it always has. I am anxious and ready and not great at being patient, but we are moving forward in other arenas to enhance our chances of this happening quicker and I must believe that Heaven hears my fervent prayers and will answer as He always has.
In the meantime, I have little ones here in my charge. Ones I want to protect from the ugly out there, ones that are innocent and completely satisfied with swimming and playing outside with each other. Ones that are working on their reading and writing and are spending a lot of time with each other these days. Ones that I hold a little tighter and love a little more and pray that the darkness that exists out there never touches them.
And Denten is trying to distract me with the possibility of this:
I mean, seriously. Look at this face.
I talked with the kids this week about the possibility of a dog in our family. They were excited but listened awfully closely as I told them that part of taking care of a dog meant cleaning up their “mess” outside when they go to the bathroom. I told them what they would need to do. Beckham thinks he can handle the job with a plastic bag over his hand. Cooper will promptly invest in a shovel and Seneca said she will be happy to help if she can have pink gloves, please. I am not fully ready to commit to this yet, but I think Denten is, so I’m trying to be open to the idea.
So, Heaven, I’m ok with only good news for a while. And if sending a babe my way is included in that, I’m ready and waiting. Love, Me.
* mom and shellie: you are welcome to comment on any portion of this post excluding the part about a dog. I know your feelings and they have been taken under advisement.