Days like yesterday are a reminder that motherhood’s rewards are not immediate, but that sometimes when they come they are better than you could have hoped they would be.
It’s more than knowing;
More, even, than believing…
It’s putting one foot in front of the other
on the path God lays out for us.
You never walk alone.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Last evening Steve was painting at the house (what’s new?). I had a list of house shopping at several different stores, plus a chiropractor appointment, library stop, and deposit. After seeing me dissolve into tears several times in the ten minutes Steve was with me, he offered that the boys could stay at the house with him. (Yes, he’s very kind and thoughtful!)
While I was gone that evening, two of the neighbors’ children came over to play with the boys–something Zachary has been hoping for since the day we started working at the house. They played tag and hide and seek for awhile. Later the little boy went home and Angel and the boys came into the house. Steve heard them talking about opening paint, and without checking told them not to open any paint.
“I knew Zachary wouldn’t open them if I told them not to, and I thought she would listen, too,” Mr. Smucker would report later.
A few minutes later he heard them laughing and talking about painting, so he went out to check what they were doing. Here Angel ;) had found a paint brush and was busily painting the front porch rails. She had already repainted an area in the living room Steve had just cut in as well as painted the lower part of a window! No wonder when I called him to ask for a measurement he just said, “Uhh, I’ll call you later. We’re in the middle of a situation,”
(edited to add…tonight’s events included her painting drywall mud on walls painted just a few days ago. Thankfully Steve was able to clean it up, but he also made a rule about her staying outside to play.)
Making big decisions while pregnant is not one of my recommendations. Sigh. Last night I placed a non-refundable order for flooring for the office. Just now I see I had emailed myself a link to another flooring from a different store that I like a lot better and is a little less per square foot. Could I remember that I had already chosen something before I bought this stuff? No. This seems to be my classic pregnancy move.
A look at one of the rooms in progress. I NEED to take more pictures. I’ve been quite the slacker, and will probably regret that after we’ve moved in.
Painter boys and cards made from paint chips–two signs that we’re in the thick of it.
The house is coming along. Slowly.
The painting goes on and on and on. Friends from Jesup came up to help us last week for several days. Friends from the mission have been helping us, too. I think, think, think I might have bought the last paint last night.
(add-on again: Nope, ran out and need another quart. Hello, Home Deopt, once again.)
We’re a few weeks past the first hopefully set moving date. Now Steve has started saying, “Before Thanksgiving,” which is even longer than the last hopeful move in date. So far I’ve been able to be pretty flexible and okay, but this week I’m weary and not really feeling so sweet about the delay.
It’s no reflection on Steve. Seriously, he works unbelievably hard and long. (80 hours or so a week between the mission and the house) I have no idea how he stays motivated or how he can keep going and going AND come home and smile at us when he’s done. Please do pray for him because it is starting to wear him out. (and me, too, because it’s wearing me out, too.)
This past weekend we went back to Abbeville for a wedding. We enjoyed catching up with friends. Well, it was hardly enough time to be considered catching up, but it was good to be together for a little at least. I was glad Steve had a little break from the schedule. Also, it was nice to have the three hour drive both ways to sit together and talk!
We had left the van at the mechanic’s shop while we were gone over the weekend. It was ready to be picked up this morning. The boys and I headed up there taking the other vehicle which we swapped out, so it could once again drive normally instead of frightening pedestrians when we drive by. =D
Last night we were all in shock that it only cost $87 to have the van fixed! Well, this morning we found out that between a foreign accent and cell phone blips there had been a misunderstanding. No, it was actually a couple hundred+87….okay, that really makes more sense even though it’s not what we wanted to hear.
When I had first walked into the office, the mechanic said, “I remember you….yes, and I remember Steve, too. He’s a nice guy.”
Christy: Yes, he is.
Mechanic: He’s a really nice guy….he is….calm…and kind.
M: He is a good man.
He asked more questions about where Steve works, if he gets paid, if he has another job to supplement income (not really), how we manage to live…and finally ending with, “See. I knew he was a good man. I will be careful with the Tribute. I will look out for him when I’m working on it.”
Once again I felt this sense that God is blessing us in these out-of-the-ordinary ways. It’s really strange–how that so. many. things have happened that haven’t been the way we normally view blessings, yet we have this assurance that God is blessing us.
You see people with life flowing along who say, “Yes, God has blessed us so much!” You hear about people who give and give and yet they say that God has always given back to them in even greater abundance. That’s not really the way it’s been coming out for us. Financially, healthwise, and more there have been some really rocky times this past year, and especially since the summer. It doesn’t look like the blessings that we picture God showering on His people. Yet, we somehow have this strong sense that God’s blessing, is in fact, poured out on us. It’s a mystery of Christianity, I suppose. Gifts–blessings–all from Him. Not appearing in the sparkling packages we hope for, but in unexpected places and unpredictable patterns. He loves us. Though sometimes I don’t understand why we get the gifts we do, I know He’ll keep blessing us in ways that make us long for more of Him. And, really, that’s all we need.