carvings.

I'm sitting in the family room, my laptop on my lap, listening to my dad and my husband talk baseball.  My dad is reminiscing.  He shares memories of watching Mickey Mantel at Yankee stadium as a young boy.  Chris rattles off statistics from past World Series.  I tune in an out of their conversation, but overall, I enjoy the male-talk...the momentary departure from female angst.

The men carved pumpkins tonight.  Chris is gifted with a blade.  Of course, the blade he used this evening was much larger than the delicate one he uses on the human eye. Nonetheless, the man enjoys working with his hands, sculpting and carving. One of my favorite childhood memories is of carving pumpkins with my Dad when I was about six or seven years old. We sat around the kitchen table in our little house in Atlanta, GA and dug out the slimy innards of our plump pumpkin. There's a photograph that freezes that memory in my mind...my face holds a huge smile as my arm is submerged in the orange guts.  That was the image of Tess tonight, joining the men at the table, an eager and willing assistant. It was a "full circle" moment for me...big time.

When all the carving was done, the guys took the five jack-o-lanterns out into the darkness.  We gathered outside to watch their lights flicker and laughed over which jack represented each family member.

Chris is the one on the left.  Jolly, chipper, happy-go-lucky.  Lucy is next to Chris.  She's got that sassy toddler look on her face.  I'm the one on the far right.  A bit forlorn, disgruntled, anxious.  Tess is next to me...she says she's the one with the "rock star eyes."

And of course, the one in the middle is little Ren, sweet Ren.  Where are you, dear boy?  We lit a candle for you tonight, anxiously awaiting your light to shine in our family.  So, wherever you are, I hope you know that we are burning to meet you, even if you still are half a world away.

It was on Halloween, one year ago, that Chris and I first had "The Talk" about adoption.  There were tears and conviction...sentiments of wanting to live our lives differently...totally sold out for God and His purposes for our lives.  Here we are, a year later, paperwork logged into China, and still waiting upon God to say "when." We are living one day at a time, trying to seek Him in the present, in the moment, in this season where things seem to be at a standstill.

I read this tonight:

"I don't know what's coming next," I said to my friend.  "I don't know what my future holds."

"Don't worry," she said. "Your soul does."

This feels true.  My soul knows.  I don't know when or how, but I feel like God is giving me this time to prepare for what lies ahead, gradually carving me into a being that better reflects Him, teaching me healthier ways of living, and showing me more and more that I can't love other people abundantly until I accept His love for me. Easier said than done.  I'm anxious about the ways our family will be carved and molded by all the events that await us in the dark unknown...our little lights flickering in the blackness.

My light has felt dim lately.

Sometimes I'm still surprised by how hard life is.  Why am I still surprised by this?  Life is hard.  Why should I think anything different? We aren't home yet. We live in a fallen world.  But it continually takes me by surprise, knocks the wind out of me...keeps me going back to the Source of truth and goodness, the only real and lasting Hope there is.  But the carving process is painful...living in one world while being created for another is a difficult thing to carry around inside sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if I feel this reality too much.

Alright, that's it for tonight.  Please, someone, tell me to lighten up, to stop taking life so seriously.

Seriously.

I'm gonna go play some Scrabble with my husband...

P.S. ***  It's the following morning and I came across this verse during my time with God...I love how He leads us directly to passages that He knows will speak to us...it's crazy how much this one correlates to what I wrote last night.  I had to add it on to this post...

"He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the dimly burning flame.  He will encourage the fainthearted, those tempted to despair.  He will see full justice given to all who have been wronged." --Isaiah 42.3