These last few weeks have been a lot of a little: little wins, little failures, little messes, little people… but a lot of all of them, you know?
Some highlights:
My husband and I both completely forgot Valentine’s Day in spectacular fashion. I first claimed the moral high ground, since I bought him a card. But then I failed to remember to actually fill it out or give it to him. He, wracked with guilt the next day, bought me an article of clothing he thought I’d like. He wasn’t wrong— I do like that sweater… which is why I already own it. But since we’re both laughing and still pretty madly in love (emphasis on the madly), I think we’re doing okay.
After much deliberation and a series of clearly ordained—but nearly disastrous—missteps, we are putting our older kids in a new school. We were happy at their current place, but God literally dropped this opportunity into our laps, and I’m still in awe. It’s a Charlotte Mason/Classical hybrid, where they do watercolor & handicrafts between Socratic discussions on the couch, next to which sits the nature study table with rocks and snakeskins… if you know me, you know how this makes me feel. Most importantly, though, was the three-page scriptural agreement and the overall atmosphere of beautiful, reverent worship that seems to be woven into the very walls. With just enough energy to keep it real life. I feel very blessed, if not a little overwhelmed by it all.
Then—the pièce de résistance—my in-laws closed on a house here in North Carolina this past weekend. It’s an adorable little brick home, with mossy hills and a creek running through the tree-covered backyard. A dreamy little hideaway, less than ten minutes from our own front door. I realize that having two sets of loving, involved, and local grandparents makes me blessed to the point of obnoxiousness. I really, really do. But I’m not sorry—not even a little.
There’s been other ridiculousnesses (is that even a word?) along the way. I won first place at a team CrossFit competition… because we were the only ones who actually showed up to compete in my division. (Will I continue to loudly gloat about this to my 5th-placing-husband? Yes. Yes I will.) I played the piano for Communion at church, a first that I was grateful to have, even if the nerves made me want to hurl. (It also included, as my husband so lovingly phrased it, an “extended time of silent contemplation” when I stopped playing too early, thinking the deacons were coming forward…. I’m so glad God has a sense of humor.) We’re also currently fostering guinea pigs for the week, finishing two house projects as we start five more, potty training twins (it will never end), and scrubbing unmentionable stains out of hair and clothing on the daily…
That’s life. I told my sister last week, I feel like the Holy Spirit has been dragging me along by the hair, and at this point I’ve given up trying to figure out what He’s up to. I don’t claim to be an especially “intuitive” person, so it’s the only explanation for some of the decisions and opportunities the Lord has dropped in my lap of late. I’ve said “that’s never going to happen” and then just watched Him make some of my biggest dreams come true over the past few years. Without me doing… well, much of anything besides finally being brave enough to ask.
As a younger woman, I developed the habit of falling asleep to daydreams and fantasies. Nothing crazy, just making up stories of an idealized life in my head, whatever that looked like. I had trouble falling asleep the other day, so I reached for the habit again… only to realize, I had no source material anymore. Without reaching for the straight up fantastical (how does one become a faerie and live in a hollow log with checked curtains and cozy blankets?)…. I realized that my life, as is, is a beautiful dream itself. I couldn’t come up with anything I felt I lacked.
Some of that is due to all these answered prayers and circumstances. A lot of it is a changed heart.
Is my life perfect? Ha! Way too much bodily fluids, sleep deprivation, and general “life in a fallen world” stuff to claim that. But it’s so incredibly rich, and colorful, and warm and bright. Such a far cry from those years of mourning and weeping seven years ago. And while I cannot confidently say with the apostle that I’ve learned in every state to be content, I have found this season of hyper focusing on the good and squinting at the bad, has been good for my soul.
So if you’re reading this, in your own season of hurt, take hope. I have clung at times to the verse in Psalms “I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” (Ps 27:13). That might not be your reality today, but cling to the belief that it could be again one day. God allows deep, painful seasons of growth and suffering. I’m sure I haven’t see the last of my own. But He also turns our mourning to dancing, our tears to laughter, and our fears to faithful dependence.
All we have to do is take His hand. And trust our future to His love.
With love,
Kelsey
Miracles Enough 