First, the Van. Mr. Basil hand delivered the van to my doorstep this morning, helped me rearrange car seats, and then I drove us into Nashville and said goodbye to him at the airport. The van is all I could ask for in a van- light brown leather interior that will hide mud, Jack's hair, and easily wipe away yucks. It has a sunroof, which I'm a softy for. It seats 8, which I get a kick out of knowing I have the potential of toting so many people around. And lots of other perks...automatic doors, a "spy mirror" so I can watch the kiddos, in-floor storage, and lots of room. And that's what makes my heart sink a little bit...it has too much room. I already miss my crammed Camry where I can hand the girls gum or swat legs or stick a finger in Isaac's crying mouth. So, yes, change is good and it is time for a van, but change (even though good) is still emotionally draining.
Second, the girls and I spent the latter morning and early afternoon driving to government buildings in Nashville for yet more adoption paperwork-notaries and authentications that had to be updated in order for us to receive a referral. Tiring. And just one for reminder of the grueling, long process of adoption. We started over 1 1/2 years ago, and we've got more long months ahead of us while we continue to wait for this child that we've been praying for & dreaming about before I miscarried & before Isaac. In some ways it feels so unfair that I've been allowed to move on and live my life without this child that I only carry in my heart. My emotions for this boy(?) get more and more raw each day. I've starting weeping again at night for this baby wondering if he's alone, cold, & hungry. And after all that running around I received an email asking for urgent prayer because there is talk of an Ethiopian government shutdown beginning March 4th. It may or may not happen. 15 years ago it happened and only lasted 3 weeks. Just pray.
So, the van, the adoption, the shoes all signify a cacophony of change (compounded by the deployment coming and goings, selling a house, an upcoming move, thoughts of Ellie starting Kindergarten, saying goodbye to fantastic friends) that is trying to whisk me away. And while venting feels fabulous, I cannot do this in my own strength. I will sit in the bathtub tonight and quiet my heart before the Lord, and rest in His presence. He alone is God. He is in control. And whether I am weak or strong, He will be praised from my heart and then from my lips. And I will cling to His Word, and meditate on the below passage, because when I am in seasons of change I need reminders of what is truly important.