When I had a 2 year old boy and a 4 month old boy and found out I was pregnant, I never had a shinier sink. I was all files and binders and schedules and granola bars. I fit my baby in a sling up over my growing belly, and I organized my little house because I felt it coming. I could hear the thunder in the distance,

but I kept thinking, “This is not the hard part of life.” Get these little things straight, and as I straightened, I trusted God with what was to come, and I tried to be obedient with what was in front of my face. It was all I could handle. I look back with such gratitude at how He helped me handle fear.

So the feeling has come again. Seeing this stack of adoption paperwork is like seeing two lines on a pregnancy test. Suddenly I see my mess, one hundred emails to which I’ve never responded, the blank chalkboard where my boys haven’t been learning their letters.

Seth, too, has been revealing so much mess in me because he’s beaming and brimming with God thoughts. He’s had a deep stirring inside him, and I’m watching transformation, a tendering. I feel mostly tired and overwhelmed. Actually, that’s not true. I also feel loved and I feel in love.

All this leads to the crock pot I mentioned the other day, still on low for a while longer, marrying some flavors, grace and good desire. In it is a book Seth and I will begin writing together this week.

We’re learning the power of forgiveness and of finding roots of bitterness, and as we ponder these things and feel God straightening us out, our response to Him has changed; we’re flooded with creativity and songs.

We feel released. We have healthy desires: for enjoying life, color, and right foods, for clean hearts, for an order of things that reflects God, for that sweet baby girl to be born far away, and for grace – that we would grow in grace, released from the bondage of un-forgiveness.

We’re not even sure yet what it all means practically, hence the crock pot. I finally feel free to start the adoption paperwork. We’re praying for the meantime of that, too – whether or not to care for local children in our home on a regular basis. I feel free to begin making a little money with my blog to help in the process.

These are the things right in front of our faces, and it’s all we can handle – that and writing a book. It’s a lot. For the next few days, I will share a part of the practical side of all this because I need your accountability and your help.

Thanks for being a part of this space with me. A front porch makes no sense without a friend on it and some carrying on about what it means to live.