Bits & Pieces from Home

Life has come to a bit of a standstill for us.  I've been going through some different steps to improve my pelvic girdle pain and in the process, have made a mess of myself.  In alternative medicine, one must usually get worse before they get better, and that is definitely the case with me.  I haven't felt this bad for months.  So, confined to a chair for the most part, life has been slow.  On the flip side, getting worse signifies a possible change for the good in the near future.  I'm cautiously hopeful, since this won't be the first time that I think I have it figured out.

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I've been reading again.  It's been a long time since I really spent time reading a book.  I read one of George MacDonald's books, and now "Breaking Free" by Beth Moore.  I've been dealing with fear for about a year now, and I finally cracked.  I mean, I've always dealt with various fear-issues in my life, but in the last year I've really, really dealt with them.  In desperation, I reached out for help from a dear friend who went through similar issues years ago.  One day I will write all about it, but for now, for privacy and protection, I cannot.  If I have talked to you on the phone or in person in the last year, you have heard about some of the problems we've had in our home, anyway.  BUT details aside, my fear was consuming me, slowly breaking me down and wearing me out, and my friend helped to steer me back to God and my need to trust Him and break the foothold Satan had on my heart.  God has revealed still more areas of fear in my life that I need to address.

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John and I have been purging our home of *stuff.*  It's amazing how much excess we accumulate in just four years of marriage.  I L-O-V-E organizing, so the more stuff we get rid of, the better I can organize and the happier I will be.  So far I've made it through the linen closet and most of the third bedroom/office, with lots of assistance from my ever-faithful husband.
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My favorite memory from the week took place on a relatively warm and sunny afternoon.  John was off for the day and decided to cut the tree down.  THE tree, as it's the only one we have.  It didn't shade the deck, and was at risk of a major butchering from the electric company, anyway...not to mention it's the only spot we have for a little pool for Joshua, and while we thought the tree would provide great shade for that last year, it provided bird droppings instead.  So...needless to say, down it came.  (Note: Seeing John in this precarious position was not part of my favorite memory).

This was, though.  Joshua had his first of many play dates with the mud.  He was in his glory!

He got much, much worse than this.  I didn't get a picture before his bath.  It warms my heart to watch my son frolicking in the mud and playing around the yard just like my brothers and I did years ago.  I love to watch him take delight in all of the same activities we did, where even a piece of broken shingle or a large stick was transformed into a treasure in our eyes.

And yes, it's spring in PA!

All the daffodils are blooming.  This one came up last year, too, just as small.  Just after I took the picture, Joshua picked it.

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And lastly, our adoption pursuit came to a close this week.  When we started the process two years ago, I was seeing a doctor who seemed to be helping and figured I'd be better in just a few months between her treatments and physical therapy.  So, we started the process of adoption, knowing it would be a long one and still give me plenty of time to recover.  Well, needless to say, it didn't.

We have already been given two extensions, and we decided to lay it to rest.  It's just not time.  Even if I did miraculously recover in the next month, I have many more months of hard work ahead of me or I will be at constant risk of re-injury, not to mention how physically unfit I am after being chair bound for 80% of the last four years.  It's not going to be an easy year one way or the other.

It's been a slow, gradual retrogression of events and in my heart, I knew it was coming.  Not so much because of my physical state of being, but I knew it wasn't God's time.  I was never willing to admit it, but I've known for a long time, and now circumstances force me to say it out loud.  Yet I'm not sad.  Somewhere in all of this, there's a reason.  Life is not what I would have chosen, and though I struggle at times to believe (like, really believe in my heart) that God has a better plan than any that I can come up with, I know He does.
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So there's my life in blog-form.  I'll be back again.