not this far.

I keep finding myself wanting this season to be done.

I'm sure you can relate, wherever you find yourself.

I have never experienced such an ongoing torrent of emotions and struggles and unknowns...nor paired with them the same for Matt, and Nikki, and Lily, and Sofie, every day (plus the normal 4 and 2 year old struggles and emotions, like having to wear underwear and frustration with block towers :)
 
We are going through all the things--trying to come to peace over good-byes we never got and closure we didn't come close to experiencing, missing our family and friends and home, fighting worry and concern over Haiti and friends around the globe, fighting such a concerning financial time, being frustrated with being here and unable to see or do what "here" has always meant, loss of pets and friends and stuffed animals and pictures and continual questions of "what about my ___" and "what about dear _____" followed by NO answers, the stresses of living (and being unable to leave) in someone else's space, no matter HOW gracious they are!, all the many continual stresses of house-hunting but from afar, trying to adjust to a new job but online and from afar, trying to carry on well with Emmaus and friends and leadership there, also online and from afar--all the things for all of us all at once in all different ways.

Everyone is going through so much loss right now, I know it's not just us.

I keep finding myself wanting this season to be done.

I don't know what to say but to keep rocking Sofie and promise her that God is with our friends here and there and everywhere, that God is with us and will be. Our Sofie who always lives in the moment is breaking our hearts with her bad dreams and late-night tears over fear that we will be homeless and hungry and cold and carrying our four suitcases, and what if her friends get 'the sickness' and can't come to hospitals, like she did?

I don't know what to say to Lily's strong need to plan and know but that God has a good plan and knows, and can be trusted.  I make up a fake plan every day for this girl and we follow it. School then bath then a walk, then snack, then reading, then a craft, then baking.

I don't know what to say to our lovely relator except to please just pick something and tell us when we should move in, because I know that's not the best way at all...but we're so tired to do this.

I don't know what to say to Matt, to Nikki, except to listen and understand and love them, and I do.

I don't know what to say to myself except the lines of Aunt Marilyn and my mother, the lines that keep washing through all these cracks over and over.

What is God wanting you to grow through this? Marilyn's voice asks, one she has asked so many times that I can almost feel her hand pat mine as she waits, patiently, for an answer.  She always seems to see God redeeming.

God hasn't brought us this far, through all of this, only to abandon us now, Mom says again and again for the thousandth time, so often a declaration of faith more than a conviction, so often that she didn't always finish the phrase. Not THIS far, Stacey. 

Not this far.

I don't know what to say to the Lord except for a million little prayers throughout the day and night.

Please. Please. 

Help, Lord.

Give me Wisdom.

Grace upon grace.

Protect them.

Patience, dear Jesus.

Please.

I am thinking of so so many of you these days, and I am praying for you.

The prayers may be short...but they are not shallow.

And the Spirit

He helps us in our weakness

we do not know how to pray as we should

but the Holy Spirit intercedes for us

groanings too deep for words

romans 8:26