last friday when i'd reached the last feeble thread at the end of my rope, the mister took little m for the day. i got to scrub the shower and paint my desk and fold stacks of fabric and eat my first conflict-free lunch in four months. it's a beautiful thing to have enough quiet to taste my soup.
my folks arrived fresh from oahu this week with my little brother and aunt in tow. they hand-carried sushi rolls and manapua, stuffed the crannies of their suitcases with candies and shelled out a small fortune to check a box of home-grown coffee plus goodies for the kids. in em's words: christmas showed up early this year. indeed.
my brother noel is a walking comedy routine and raves over my cajun pasta and is teaching the kiddos rubber band tricks. dad's been playing chess with zee and bee, my aunt reads and plays memory with the littles, and mom cooks a mean beef stew (and pretends she doesn't know the first thing about card games while trouncing us all). they're good for the soul, these people.
also, thank you. i asked you to pray and you did, and it's seeing us through this winnowing season. and i'll likely splinter along a hundred fault lines over and again for a good while yet, but maybe the point isn't to arrive intact at all. maybe it's to still be clinging to Jesus for dear life at the end of the day.
[every single one of you who dropped me a line, i've been praying for you too. and there's something renewing in that, to be a lifeline for someone else in the middle of the hot mess that is currently me.]
ps if you bump into us (or any adoptive family) regular-like, please read this primer on how to handle our special flavor of neurosis. bless you, jen hatmaker.