For a while now (way too long, actually), I've dreamed about a big, personal writing project, but I haven't begun the work. My reasoning was that I wasn't ready. I've been waiting to reach a level of spiritual intimacy that somehow qualified me or made me worthy to write this material, which will center on faith. (I know, funny - keep reading.) Beginning the project before I was qualified/valid/equipped/"legit" seemed hypocritical since most days I either putz around and waste what precious little free time I have, or I busy myself with other not-as-important "priorities" (perhaps as a form of avoidance or denial?). I had an epiphany about this today and realized two things: 1. Doing the work may be just what I need to do in order to grow in my spiritual life. I will mature in the process of researching, writing, and wrestling with this material. The process will force me to seek out answers through scripture and prayer. I'll be breathing ...
I passed our infant carseat on to someone else last week. I did the same thing with my maternity clothes. If those seems like drastic steps for someone who up until fairly recently said she wanted to be pregnant, it's because they are. They seemed that way to me too. Even though I was confident I was supposed to pass these items to these particular expectant moms, I still felt a lump in my throat as I drove away without the carseat. If you've followed along with our journey at all, you know that as much as John adores Olivia, he never felt a strong pull to have a second child. I always wanted another and assumed that we would. It wasn't even a question in my mind. We continued to disagree on this (rather substantial) decision for quite a while, so we decided that we'd spend the year 2016 praying intentionally and specifically about this issue, asking God to bring unity. I realize how funny this it is now. God is not a Magic 8 ball who provides answers at...