Skip to main content

The Sky is Falling

     I didn't think I'd write anything about this because I don't have the energy or knowledge to explain everything that's going on, and also because it's embarrassing. But I write about so much of my life, and I've been focused tonight on what's going right, so I decided to go ahead and let you see our mess, mess, mess, as Jack calls it!

     This hasn't been the most stellar week. Our house is literally falling down around our ears, and a lot of that is because of an accident with a sink that was my fault. That sink is now in the garage with the rest of my kitchen. And every six hours, someone from a cleanup company comes in to tell me some new astronomically expensive thing that is wrong with the house (a lot of which has nothing to do with the original accident). 4" of standing water in the crawl space? Great. Everything associated with said space was installed incorrectly which could end up costing you $30,000 down the line? Perfect. Chump change. These are the kinds of conversations I've been having with the strangers who are traipsing through my home whilst I am trapped in what I'm lovingly referring to as my Prison of Noise. Fans. Grindy saw things. Floor tearer upper things.  You know that scene from the Grinch? "Oh, the noise, noise, noise, noise!" 
     Living it.
     BUT. I have a smile on my face.  I am counting my many blessings today. I know my Redeemer lives. My family is healthy. We found out serious things that were wrong with our home that would have gotten worse. My sister from another mister called this morning to tell me she's taking me to 2 Cubs games at Wrigley in a couple weeks. My friends and family have been amazing, from moral support to actual-cleaning-up--wet-drywall-off- floor-with-bare-hands-support (hi Grandpa)! Grandpa was my hero who walked in literally seconds after my ceiling crashed down around my head and stayed all day helping me clean up the epic mess and entertain Jack, who was in seventh Heaven with his little mop and his Gandpa!
   
     After months and months of waiting, we finally found out they ARE having Matt's conference in California, and we decided Jack and I will still go, because, as my uncle and fellow wanderluster described this life, "you only get one time around." So we will save up as much as we can in spite of this demolition nightmare and show Jack what it feels like to fly through the sky, introduce him to Mickey Mouse, dip his toes in the Pacific, and stare up with him at ancient, soaring sequoias. And it will be worth it. Last, but NOT least, through a multi-hour session of mowing and weedeating, I confirmed that my phone's pedometer has only been giving me credit for 25% of the steps I've been taking! You best sit down, LG G5. Only I am allowed to sell myself short, thank you very much! 😂




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Willow Trees and Ramparts

Today my dad helped Jack climb a tree for the first time in our backyard.

     When Matt decided he was set on this house being OUR house, I remember looking out at this yard and loving these weeping willows. Maybe it was my inner 90's girl calling to me with a scene from Pocahontas. I don't know. It took me a little longer, but I fell for the house, too. One day on my lunch break, I drove here, slipped through the unlocked gate, and knelt under this very tree to pray. I prayed that if this was the home we were meant to have, that our offer would be enough (it was, even after we decided to hold steady when someone came in with a counter offer), and that God would give us this home and children to fill it with. I pictured a couple of kids running around that yard, though at the time, we were still trying and failing to conceive, for no physical reason, which was breaking my heart. I also prayed His will above ours, knowing we would trust no matter what the outcome was.
   …

Empty Arms on Mother's Day--A Letter

To the woman walking through infertility:

     I see you. You are not forgotten on this day. I know what today can bring. I know what it feels like to look at the flowers for the mothers at church and do your best to hide the tears in your eyes, knowing there isn't one for you. I know your heart aches. I know your pride hurts. I know that what you go through every 28 days is a real and powerful grief. I know you mourn what could have been. I know you should probably buy stock in pregnancy tests. I know you're angry. I know you might secretly want to punch women in the baby section at Target. I know EVERYBODY is pregnant in your city, and the women who aren't pregnant already have perfect, bouncing babies. They probably have five. Probably quintuplets. I know you've been asked if you and your husband want kids. I know someone you've revealed your struggle to has told you how to fix the problem by relaxing and taking your temperature and trying harder and not trying …