just. exactly. perfect.

I know telling you that we are expecting yet another precious girl is enough of a reveal today, but I've got to share a quick testimony before we head to bed...

This is all taking a lot of adjusting.

I know.  That's dumb.  I'm FROM here.

But we just went from one very extreme extreme to a very extreme opposite extreme.  This house is empty and quiet.  Our house was NEVER empty nor quiet.  There is NO ONE at this door.  There might as well not BE a door at home.  NoONE needs us.  From feeling like EVERYONE needed something, always.  We went from feeling so much responsibility to feeling so little, from being involved in SO much to being involved in so little, from feeling like every minute was pre-filled to thinking about how we want to fill the minutes.

It was hot, now we're cold, I was cooking beans and rice for 18 people A WEEK ago and tonight we had a whole dinner of foods we haven't had in almost a year...chicken breast, sweet potatoes, grapes, tortellini.  Ice cream.  For four.

We had NO medical care and suddenly we've been to the doctor twice in two days, have dentist appointments next week...had no roads and packed out transportation and suddenly have this spacious van and smoothness and GPS...no choices and suddenly have aisles and aisles and aisles.   So many people we couldn't see and now so many people we want to.  Every evening was full of dear friends and visitors and our team...suddenly, everything is SO. QUIET.

So Quiet is right where I believe He has our hearts...and I'm fighting myself not to FILL IT with busy and crazy and travel and guilt and more BUSY.  Fighting to hold onto the quiet and lack of responsibility and lack of need and rest in Him.  Sit at His feet.  Be His.

I've been praying simple prayers these days instead of the huge circus prayers of supernatural strength and ability I've grown accustomed to.

may the baby be healthy.
give us some friends for Lily.
give us your peace and voice.
give us your perspective.
give us your fullness.
be our rest.

So in the ultrasound room this morning, learning of another dear girl...I couldn't help but feel a schmidge bit disappointed at the thought of perhaps never having a son.  Then there was some mixed feedback about her name we've held close for months, Nora, light and compassion, which of course, got to me more than it should have.  Then Lily begged again for some friends and is literally going out in the woods behind grandpa's house to look for friends.  Then Matt got irritated with us that Lily and Sofie find it very hard to leave him alone while he's working on his doctorate, and all under one roof, there is no office to go to.

So I made a split decision, told the girls to bundle up, and the three of us headed for the playground a few minutes away.

Alone.  Quiet.
Needing Him to meet me there.  Waiting.

When we arrived, there was no one there but 3 teenage girls chatting dramatically and making me SO thankful I am no longer a teenage girl and for people like Emily, who love them dearly, and made me start praying for my girls.

No friends.  A freezing 60 degrees.  Grouchy Matt at home.  Precious baby girl.  What were we DOING here?

Trying to let all the complicated ways I feel just BE and not chase them off.  Trying to search Him out in them.

After an hour of no real friend finding, it was time to be starting dinner and the girls were getting bored and I was frozen.  Time to go home.

I would just have to wait.  Not put all my issues on the playground.
He would show.  He always does.  I would trust Him.

Suddenly, a brigade of three little brown-eyed girls, about 8, 5 and 3, came tumbling out of nowhere, and Lily almost mugged them with friendship, and Sofie close behind.  They all ran and played...them, barefoot, my bronze girlies, bundled from head to toe.

I smiled to see Lily smile and she came running over...

"MOM, guess what?  HER NAME IS LILY.  She is my new friend."

He shows.  He always does.  Answered little prayer.

Missing my community and yet not quite sure or ready to be as vivacious about friend-making as Lily, I held back on the bench.  Finally, a mom, who ends up being the mom of the three, asks me what kind of curlers I used on Lily's hair, and despite my fear of not knowing how to talk in this weird culture of mine, I walk over.  She shows me her three girls, and says, "Your Lily told me that you are having a baby girl?"

Yes, I say, another sweet girl.

"Oh," she says.  "It's just the best. You're going to LOVE it.  Having three girls is simply wonderful."

Of course it is, I realize. Yet so good to be reminded.

He shows.  He always does.

I ask her about her girls.

She shows me her oldest chasing my Lily, then her Lily, and then her youngest.

Nora.

No joke.  Her name was Nora.  TODAY.  First Nora I've ever met.

I watch Nora and Sofie as they hold hands down the slide, both grinning, Nora's round cheeks flushed.

He shows.  He always does.

We talk for a minute, and she asks where we live...and I always hesitate here, and either give the, "My dad lives a few minutes from here" easy answer or the rare, "In Haiti" answer, which results in quite the spectrum of responses, most of which are responses out of the thought that I said or meant Tahiti, and say something like, "Wow, that must be nice" and start backing away like I must be a judgmental bunned missionary or a crazy extreme voluntary homeless type person.

She gracefully grinned and said, "That's cool.  My church sends groups to Haiti all the time, and everyone just loves it there."  It wasn't long before the missionary was being missionaried (THANK YOU, all those blogs I've butchered on us ALL being missionaries) and she was inviting me to her church.  And telling me when her children would be there, for my children...risky info not many new people we meet here are willing to divulge for fear that we might actually be kid-stalkers or something.

After the girls have played for over 30 minutes, we all have to go, and Matt is glad we are home, and dinner is SUCH a blessing to be ABLE to prepare in 30 minutes instead of having to hit the 3 pm window to get it done in time.

I realize that in one day, just today, He pursued me.  Met me.  Answered me.  Continued with me.

Gave us a beautiful report of a healthy little precious daughter.  Gave Lily a Lily and gave me a Nora and reminded me He is paying attention and cares intimately and is in the details and is alive and well  and moving...even in weirdness.  Adjustment.  Transition.  Quietness.  Non-busy-ness.

That when I come to His feet, even at a playground, that when I SIT, even in that weird fake American playground grass...that when I wait...that when I listen...

That He meets me.  Everytime, in His time.  In His way.

Which today...which everyday...was just exactly perfect.