a reminder to be thankful, patient and trusting

We enjoyed a wonderful thanksgiving weekend. Since moving back to the northwest, we thought it would be a treat to host a holiday inviting both our families. Thanksgiving was the perfect holiday, given that we are thankful for our families (the primary reason for moving back); so Thanksgiving we hosted, enjoying 22 family members, all but one was present. We had a great day and weekend of family time to follow.

This morning we started the day with a sermon about Zachariah and Elizabeth, their prayerfulness and faithfulness in the Lord. After years without being able to have a family, God sends an angel telling them that Elizabeth will bear a son, and they will name him John. I am sure at the time they must have laughed thinking the impossible, but later Elizabeth gave birth to John, John the Baptist. Even though they had endured many days and years of believing their "family" would end with them, they were thankful and prayerful that God would use them. They trusted that there was a plan.

We too are trusting. The past few months, and more so the past couple of weeks, we have been stretched. We are thankful for all that God gives to us, and are trying to be patient, knowing that God has great plans. We moved here feeling as doors closed and others were opened, it felt like the right "timing" and yet now we question that. It is trusting in the unknown that is most difficult at this time. We pray for patience, for faithfulness in this time in our lives. We ask for healing and for direction, for peace. We pray for more doors to be opened and doors to be closed, and pray that we will understand that God is truely the one in control, that He has the masterplan for our lives.

Some days I wish our path was already outlined for us and we didn't have to choose...

...but then I suppose life would simply be a stage full of puppets on a string. I am thankful to not be a puppet, but sometimes...really, I'd rather just be shown the way than guess and hope and pray I made the right choice.

It's been nearly six months since we made the big transition back north. Do we love it, yes. Have we gotten to see and spend time with family, yes. Have we reconnected with some friends, yes. Are we happy? Hmm, I suppose that is the question of the year. When making the decision to pack our house and move a thousand plus miles north, we asked for open and closed doors. We asked for some clarity, and some comfort. So what appeared as open and closed doors, and what felt like clarity, is getting a little muddied for the lack of comfort that we are feeling.

I am in the stage where I want to work (really only part time of course), but I feel like I am hitting all the walls...waiting for the right door to open, if you will. HELLO! And Tim is still just waiting. Waiting with an uncertainty and a dark cloud over his head. His job is still only "temporary" which we knew going into this whole thing. Although, I will say now, that "temporary" is so much harder of a state to be IN than to think about being in. At this point, I think weekly if not daily, Tim is questioning whether we made the right decision. We both had jobs that we enjoyed if not loved, not to mention, were somewhat at a decent pay rate. Yet, we had no family (although we really were beginning to establish some great friendships). And here, neither of us have "steady" jobs (well I can't even seem to land one) and the pay scale...yikes! Ahh, but we do have family.

Family...thus the basis of our move, and now the reason in which we continually remind ourselves that we are here. And family really does make us happy.

But what now?! Monday Tim leaves to work out of town for the week, which could turn into months. And I am still home full time (with the most wonderful 14 month old little guy) searching to find my nitch. Hmmm, has anything really changed?

traveling with a 13 month old...

I wouldn't recommend it, unless you have a pretty mild and mellow child. Our July has been crazy busy, so busy that I still think the 4th of July is right around the corner. With a busy month, we decided to end July with a BANG! Saturday in Ephrata for a birthday party, Sunday back to Spokane for a wedding, then early Monday morning off to Illinois for a four day trip to visit relatives. But that's not where it ends...back to Spokane late Thursday night (early Friday morning as it turned out), one night in our own bed, then up Saturday morning to drive to Prosser...are we there yet? When do we sleep in our own bed for more than 6 hours? And when do we get to keep to the same time zone?
That being said, Nathan was awesome. Fussy only twice on the first flight into Denver, then slept the entire flight into Chicago, great on the bus ride into Rockford. Our four days in Illinois consisted of trying to see all our relatives around, that meant lots of new faces for Nathan. I managed to get a decent picture of him with nearly everyone. Traveling back home was not as successful, but I had to credit Nathan's great attitude and sleep schedule while we were out and about.
Would I do it again; yep...but if I had a cranky child I might second guess that.

who am I?

I remember the first time I introduced myself as "Nathan's mom" vs. a wife, student, social worker, etc. It actually took me by surprise because it felt so forgien. Now, a year later, I feel a little more confident in my title as Nathan's mom, although there is a part of me that still seems to be missing; who am I? Perhaps I should be asking the question: who do I want to be? There are moments and stages in our lives where our 'title' changes, and this will continue to be. So who am I now, who do I want to be?
This second question is what has been weighing on me the most recently. Right now I am a stay-at-home-mom, a treasure that not all mothers, or parents for that matter, have the opportunity to be. So why can't I find joy in that? Don't get me wrong...I love the time I have with my son; I enjoy being the one to see all his 'firsts' and to teach him new thing, to sing, read, and dance with him. But there seems to be something missing for me. There are days, moments really, that I want to venture back into the workforce. I get excited when I find a job posting of a position I am qualified for. I complete the application or send in my resume and wait. But then I wonder, am I really ready? Do I really want to go back? Do I really want to miss those mornings dancing with my son, playing silly games, reading books, and seeing all his firsts? I don't know.
Some days I think it is pure selfishness: here I am blessed to be a mother, blessed to be able to stay home, and I am seeking ways to get out of the house. Peace, that is what I need to seek, peace with what i am given. Patiece to allow God's work in my life to prevail.

I used to be a writer...

Back in the day, and I am talking way back even before marriage, I used to write. There is even evidence...I have boxes of old journals. They are fun and somewhat interesting to go back and read. But then one day it stopped. My near daily journaling disappeared somewhere after college and before I met Tim. I would love to have record of our dating life and the beginnings of married life, unfortunately my thoughts just never made it down on paper. So when I became pregnant Ithought it the perfect opportunity to 'revise' my desire to write and document my pregnancy and life as a new mom. Ha! Who was I fooling?!
So here I am, 9 months after my last post, a month after my son's first birthday. I can only think of the cliche, 'where does the time fly?'