for the husband.

I drove josh to the airport today. he's going to sunny florida for a "conference". sounds suspicious, yes? well, I am happy for him- a chance to see an old friend, bask in some sunshine, sans responsibility of wife, child, general supporting of your family kind of duties.

but I miss him. that josh.

I am in the process of cleaning out once again. cleaning, organizing, and throwing TONS away. read...TONS. If I write TONS and TONS, maybe I will actually follow through on my commitment to throw TONS away.

that wasn't annoying at all.

anyway- I bought lots of cute boxes from Target, because you have to make these things fun, or you'll just lose your mind.

I feel so much better now that I have a wedding box. our letters to each other, our wedding photos, our ceremony that was taped. our invitations and guest list. I will just sleep so much better knowing that box exists.

and my journal box. years upon years of journals. in their own little home.

I have a long way to go, but everything will find a home. a home I can access and not tear up the entire attic looking for one item. I do this. ask my mom.

and now- to bring this back to the husband-

well, I had a busy day today, running hear and there with a cranky baby- and also at our new house getting estimates on floors. I was chatting with the owner, because she is my new best friend (we already have a lunch date planned come Spring so she can see her old yard in bloom)- and it just struck me.

I was kind of happy.

I was kind of happy in Tulsa.

I was driving along, thinking that God has been good to us. That every step of the way, he has paved the road for us. Confirmed our steps. Even in my darkest hours, in all my efforts to change the course of our decisions- the plans have been firm. and the peace has followed.

I had my doubts.

and this is where I get back to josh. what a good man. he's handled it with strength and so much grace.

and I love him for it.

dinner

another one from simplyrecipes.com

home

change is coming.

two days ago, I told my mother in law that we wouldn't be buying a house until this Summer. As I was saying that, it's almost like I was having an out of body experience- like I knew that I should never say something like that. you just hardly ever say absolutes like that. They almost always prove you wrong.

well, we had been looking at a house for a few weeks- but it was priced high, and though I liked many of the amenities- it really wasn't a good house for us, and I just needed a few weeks to work through that- and well, at the end of it, I just felt like I wanted to hang up the search for awhile.

however, josh and I knew, based on the the two neighborhoods were primarily looking at, that if we found something, we would most likely have to act fast. we don't like acting fast.

so, bla bla bla- I noticed a house had come on the market this past weekend, so I called to inquire. The agent said it would go fast- one owner home, right neighborhood, house was in pristine condition.

ok, I'll go look.

I was there 10 minutes and texted josh. I don't remember what I wrote- but it was something like "I just found our house"...

This house has good, solid bones. The husband and wife were in the house when we looked at it. We talked about their 5o years in this house. how they bought it new for 33,000. How they raised their family in those rooms, and walked those streets for 50 years. That home had such a good vibe. You can tell when a home has a story. The walls felt so solid- in this weird, intuitive kind of way. When we looked at the other house, I kept having these feelings like the walls were going to cave in. Weird- but I paid attention to it.

So, long story short- we knew there was going to be another offer that night. We had to make a decision. So we did.

We offered a little below their asking price and asked them to pay closing costs- because, well, we just didn't have the money to do that. The agent didn't seem too keen on it. I think she knew this house would go for the asking price. But that was really our only option. Every one says if its the right place, well, it's the right place.

The agent called yesterday and said the woman really liked our family. That she wanted us to have the house. She accepted the offer, and declined to look at the other one.

I have no words.

I look at this house, and I think it's the kind of place we could live a long time. I never thought I would live in Tulsa a long time. I might not. but I might.

I just might.

is there an answer?

if you have read this blog for any length of time, you will know I am no stranger to melancholy. Some of it is legitimate. Some is much more about the way my soul is bent (and broken). I am learning to become more comfortable in my own skin- but part of the learning is knowing when the melancholy has taken its toll. when the shift inward leans towards self-destruction, self-pity, and even pride. like it's my pain. I will interact with it the way I feel like it. well, that's all well and good in the moment, but day upon day upon day- well, it only breeds more grief and little hope.

I can be in any of these places on any given day- even in the same day- and so the dance of repentance is one I am learning well.

I remember when josh and i were struggling with infertility. I mean, what does that even mean? We wanted a baby, and we were not having any luck- while it seemed the entire universe was fertile and babies were falling out of the sky into anyone's arms except mine. "struggling with infertility" just doesn't do those emotions justice. It was sad. heart breaking. a death of a million dreams. it created huge chasms in friendships. awkwardness. it stole countless moments of joy. it also took a good run at my innocence. my naive perception that the world always worked in my favor. that pain and sorrow and bad luck were for people in India and third world countries. but me- I live in a world where earthquakes and tsunamis and poverty were only a sad story on the news. my world was full of lunch dates, and parks, and perfectly constructed baby nurseries. that was my dream- and I was drunk with expectation. and the hangover- well, it lasted for years. as we waited, waited, and waited.

I will forever be thankful for the few minutes I sat in front of a counselor and he told me how risky it was to hope. to lean into love and hope, even though it might get taken away. that it was worth it.

I wish I could have seen that at the time. I missed my sister's baby shower because it was too risky- in fact, I checked out for most of her pregnancy. like it wasn't happening. like my pain trumped her happiness. her gift. This happened quite a bit, actually. circumstance, after circumstance- my pain trumping someone else's joy.

I missed out on so much hope.

now, I am not saying there is not a place for boundaries, and bad days- and even proper grief. but, as I have said for so long, joy and sorrow always mingle- they ALWAYS will- because of the world we live in.

I am so thankful for that counselor for giving me words for the kind of love I was avoiding. I didn't want to hope or enter into any kind of joy- because what if it failed me? what if i was using that decision to bargain my way into happiness, even a pregnancy? but you can't really. if you really enter into someone's happiness, their joy- well, that is a kind of love that is really only grace. the kind of love that says, I don't know how to do this on my own strength- I want to love you, and this baby, or your new job, or your brand new kitchen. I want to love your story with the confidence that I have a story of my own that God is weaving.

I know what your thinking- all well and good. you got your baby. you have a job. you have what you want.

well, perhaps this is true. but it hasn't always been true, and it might not always be true.

in fact, much of the way I am broken, causes me to fear the bleakest of circumstances. I see pain 10,000 miles ahead and I plot out ways to avoid it. I don't call people and choose to love them less because of the pain I am resisting of when I might not have them any longer. I do that with my own husband. I look at him when the lights are out, and my heart sinks to my feet at the thought of losing him at any time. and that thought spirals into the next- until I realize that this sad day comes to all of us. some earlier than others. that on any given day, we come face to face with the reality of living in such an incomplete place. such a paradoxical place. where blue skies and beaches, and coffee, and the most beautiful flowers send us to a place of utter bliss as we bask in the glory of true delight. the same place where the rain pours, and we lose our only love, and our wombs remain empty.

I have no idea how we live in these extremes. I just have no idea.

but I choose to hope. to risk it all. and I say that knowing I am having a good day.

and I also unabashedly admit, that I am putting all my eggs in this basket.