three saturdays back we set out at a quarter till eight to apply for passports for five young owenses. we showed up early (the mister was driving, and he is the personal ambassador of punctuality), and as we camped out at the post office a rogue herd of butterflies swarmed my stomach. something about the kids’ passports clicked a cog of reality into place, like oh yes. we are, in fact, relocating with many children to the far side of Not Here.
this is maybe actually happening.
then last sunday a whole bunch of my peeps from church cut through town and spooled out into the country for a baptism in the neal’s pond. amongst the baptizees was our small-group-friend lyndsey and our ten year old son.
M was not crazy about the actual water, but he very much wanted to identify with Christ’s death and join Him in the richness of new life.
’twas one of the best evenings in recent memory: a sloping sun, heat rising from the grass, strawberries and iced coke and pockets of people washed new. i love my church family. we’re spidery-cracked and bruised, but God is at work here and He spills out beautiful.
-for safely-here babies
-for hours spent with people whose hearts thrum for the kingdom of God brought near
-for cattails and watercolor ponds
-for kids who love Jesus
-for a God who hands us impossible dreams and then shakes them into Actually Happening