This business of coming home has proven to be a bit of a turbulent landing. We are struggling to find our feet and steady ourselves, but seem to just keep stumbling and bumbling. I feel the wear acutely, and this past week it's been noticeably hard on the kids as well. Very, very noticeably. The struggle and insecurity of re-acclimating to a culture while being homeless and fatherless/husbandless and not knowing where you belong or what's going to happen or having a place and no means of support...it's so hard on me, I can only imagine for them!
The good news is, we have finally secured a place to live! And it has a pool, which is thrilling Jack to no end. We can move in on the 23rd of the month, which is still 10 days away, but sooner than what we'd originally expected. This item accomplished provides huge relief!...so that now my mind can wander to the hundred other stressful cares needing immediate attention.
Most days, we feel (and act?) like we are falling to pieces, and my goal each day is to find some solace of normalcy. But it occurred to me tonight--a nugget of wisdom gleaned from preparing the evening meal--if we're falling apart, at least it means we're tender. We pray the tenderness will be productive and soon give way to satisfied souls.