This girl is PREGNANT

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It is 11:21 I am totally beat, everyone else in my house is asleep and I am watching yet another episode of Army Wives on Netflix streaming. Ridiculous…..a little. But I have been having so much trouble sleeping I figure, what the heck. May as well stay awake. I am all of a sudden totally cranky about….well….everything. I am sure the heat doesn’t help. It is stinking hot here in July. No wonder we usually leave. I walked three houses down and back, and couldn’t figure out if I was sweating or if the humidity was forming itself into droplets on my skin. I have eaten an inordinate amount of popsicles and ice treats, and cannot for the life of me find a red white and blue bomb in this city. Seriously. No where. I have been looking since June.

But the worst part is my brain. I feel like I can’t concentrate on anything. At all. I can’t read the things I normally would. Articles that I am really super interested in, halfway through I completely loose interest. And after about a year of reading mommy-blogs non-stop I could about scream before I read more advice about doula’s or poop. Even though I think both of those things are very very important. And I have been guilty of blogging about the latter. So I am aware I am a total hypocrite. But I can’t read anything too dense because I completely flake out. I am trying to follow the Atlanta Public School cheating scandal, and I will literally forget what the heck I am reading when I am half way done with it. That isn’t like me, and yet that has totally been me.

Tomorrow I am having lunch with the women in my department and I am sure they will all be lovely and gracious. I just hope I don’t sound like a complete idiot…..or talk too much “mom talk”…..or shove my foot in my mouth. Okay, the last one is probably inevitable, so not too hard.

On Love and Leadership OR Happy (Belated) Birthday Hubby: You’re a good one!

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It was Christian’s birthday Thursday! Elizabeth took Juliet (starting Wednesday night! You’re the best girl. The best!) and we slept in. Then we went out to lunch and went to the grocery store. So exciting I know. But it was the perfect day. We then picked up the Peanut and went to go get ice cream. Finally we came home and Christian went to go play poker. It doesn’t sound like much, but Christian and I have come to discover that we are basic kind of people. Simple pleasures work for us. (And the sleeping in, oh the sleeping in!)

But that isn’t exactly what I have been meaning to blog about. I have been meaning to blog about how lucky I am to have Christian’s leadership in my life. Specifically, his spiritual leadership. I know that there are some women who desire to be in a relationship where they trust their man and he makes the decisions. And I get that in theory…I guess. Who am I kidding, I don’t get it, but to each their own I suppose.

But I think that marriage is a lot like raising kids that it looks different for everyone and I say if it works for you (and the Bible doesn’t say bad idea) do it. And for us these are some things I have been batting around. I am not saying this is the case for everyone; I am saying this is the case for me.

I am not the easiest person to lead, by anyone. And for Christian….well I think it may feel to him as though he has a cat on a leash. I certainly know that I am pulling sometimes just because I feel like it, not because I have a good reason. But for me I know that I can follow Christian because he loves me so well.

Sometimes I have crazy ideas. Sometimes they are good (the redecoration in the bedroom is shaping up very nicely, and if I get this craigslist dresser under $100), but occasionally I get ahead of myself. When we moved in I really wanted to get chickens. Fresh eggs! They can eat our garbage! Our backyard is huge! It will be sort of fun and eccentric and cost effective! Christian knew better. He was raised around farms. Chickens smell bad, and I can barely keep up with the less than half of the housework that is my responsibility. Now with two under two on the way…..boy am I glad I don’t have to go collect eggs. Bending over to get them sounds torturous right now all the while trying to keep the Peanut from plucking feathers out by the fistful and/or not eating the chicken poop….good Lord. (Although the blog fodder would have been priceless….). It was a bad idea.

And when Christian said as much, I was able to listen because he loves me. He consistently has my best interests at heart. Dog because we were new in town and he was gone almost every weekend, okay. Chickens, no. Redecorating, do what I want. He mostly lets me do what I want, so when he says “bad idea” I trust it is one. Plus, it goes both ways. If I am really not down with Christian’s plans, he holds off. He hears me. Even when we can’t come to an agreement, which is very rarely. I know that I have been heard and my best interests are taken into consideration.

My department head used to love her students into submission. It was unreal. I watched it happen and I still have no clue how she did it. I guess she raised her voice on occasion, but really and truly they believed that she had their best interests at heart and thus they did what she asked.

The best parenting book I have read talks a lot about that. That kids respond to you loving them really well. And setting up loving boundaries is a good thing. Leading kids as parents means setting up situations where it is safe for kids to be them…and sometimes to fail. There wasn’t a whole lot of rebelling going on in the house I grew up in. Mostly because we believed that the “No’s” weren’t arbitrary. We knew our parents wanted what was best for us, and if it wasn’t going to hurt us they generally went with “okay”.

When I was in Bible study in college one of my leaders called God’s boundaries the “electric fence of love”. God leads us by loving us. His boundaries are there for a reason, and He only has them because He care about our well being. And sometimes we decide something is a good thing that….well…isn’t. Like chickens in the backyard or running my mouth just because I am mad.

When you not only know, but see consistently over time that someone loves you and always has your best interest at heart……it makes following a lot easier.

Today is Red and White day

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Every Thursday is Red and White day, all summer at Camp Ray Bird henceforth: CRB (except for discipleship week ….we’ll get to that.) The day where the campers learn that Jesus Christ died and rose from the dead for the forgiveness of their sins. They learned about sin on dark day, Wednesday. Gold day is Tuesday, when they learn of the goodness of God, and Green day is Friday, when the campers learn how to grow in the Lord. (If you read your Bible and pray every day then you’ll grow, grow, grow.)

Christian and I worked at Camp Ray Bird the summer before we moved to Atlanta (Summer 2006). We had some friends on the speech team who encouraged us to get summer jobs there, so we thought “what the heck.” I spent the summer answering phones and messing up registration (seriously….talk about learning about God’s grace…) while Christian led activities that the counselors took their campers to. A job you don’t normally need a masters degree for (you don’t usually need to be old enough to vote….but Christian managed to fit right in.) What goes on is so much more than the sum of the stuff that everyone does there.

The basics are this. Around a thousand kids come through CRB every summer. Almost every single kid qualifies for a reduced fee. $30 for the week. The whole week, overnight, 3 meals and 2 snacks a day, and a t-shirt if they memorize all of their Bible verses. Not to mention swimming everyday, daily activities, crafts, the whole summer camp experience. From where I sit that is less than VBS at some churches, and all the kids eat there is a themed snack.

But the biggest piece is this. The kids are loved at CRB. The counselors, the kitchen staff, the lifeguards, the 16 year olds whose job it is to put the worm on the hook for the 7 year old girls, every single person is there to love campers, even if that means discreetly picking up wet sleeping bags and having them laundered before “horizontal hour.” Every worker believes it is their job to love the kids in whatever way they can.Even if it means cleaning toilets or roping off the field for games later that night.

And the kids, even the little ones, can’t leave without understanding who Jesus is and exactly how much God loves them. I’m not saying it fixes all their problems or anything, poverty is a beast for sure. But for a week, one week, kids who otherwise wouldn’t get the opportunity, get to do summer. Not sit in front of the TV all day because it is too hot or not safe enough in their neighborhood to go outside.There is no public pool in South Bend, so for most of the campers their week at camp is the only week they swim.

Christian and I feel so, so blessed to have been witness to what goes on there, to be able to participate in the ministry. This is the first year we won’t be able to visit, even for a weekend. The timing of it all just didn’t pan out. I’m praying for the ministry this summer. And praying that the staff can see beyond the grueling hours and incessant needs of the campers to the investment they are making in the name of the Lord. It gets hard sometimes.

And if you feel so called…even if it is just a couple bucks, feel free to click the pay pal button on the Camp Ray Bird website. I worked in the office, and can honestly tell you that NO ONE can stretch a dollar like the CRB staff. I’ve got details if you want them. Seriously, even 5 bucks will pay for bait for fishing for a week. And by all means put them on your prayer list!

Privilege

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Privilege, it seems like the more I avoid writing on something the more I am bombarded with the issue. And privilege is what I have been thinking a lot about lately. It started with the big school move (detailed here). But then I started reflecting on my birth experience to get myself prepped for the next one (post to come soon….I hope) and then there was some sort of public twitter blogger-word-fight about poverty tourism surrounding Heather Armstrong. One of my favorite bloggers, Katie Granju, wrote about the whole thing as did mom-101 and many, many others. And for me it all boils down to privilege, and what responsibility (if any) does privilege come with?

What is privilege? Who decides who is and who isn’t? Is it always about money? I feel like I am stepping into a whole pile of stuff that is too deep for me to surf through. But it is what is going on with me, in my life. So here goes nothing.

I realized that I was resenting my new students for the privilege that they have. Their school is beautiful and well maintained. No graffiti in the bathroom stalls, always toilet paper. 20 different AP possibilities to choose from. Every sport imaginable, (including a quidditch club). And as a teacher if I need or want something for my classroom? I simply attach the need to my syllabus and the students have the resources to get it for me. When I say resources, I don’t just mean money. They have parents who value education and have the time to be supportive, transportation to the store, an office supply store in their neighborhood. All of the things that set the kids up to succeed. And you know what? It isn’t their fault they have all of those things. And it isn’t their fault that my old students didn’t have all of those things.

But mostly God held up a mirror and said, “Really Abby, a 27 year old able bodied white woman in America, raised in a Christian two parent home.You are going to hold people’s privilege against them?” Yeah, rich, I know. I am privileged. As a woman I was born in a place where I didn’t have to live in a fear of my womanhood, it didn’t equal a death sentence or a mandatory marriage at 15. I was entitled to a free education  until I was 18. And the blessings the Lord bestowed on my family growing up……I could write forever and not get everything down. And yet, I was looking at these kids and blaming them. For all that is unjust in this world. Which isn’t fair.

Privilege isn’t fair. Some people are born with more than others. And if your in the more category (and if you are reading this, you probably are) what does that mean? What responsibility do we have? This year I hope to teach my students about people who have less than they do. People without safe homes or clean drinking water. I want to inspire them to use the things they have access to to make someone else’s life better. And I want them to understand that just because you recognize your privilege, doesn’t mean you are saying that you and your parents aren’t working hard. It just means you were also blessed.There is no shame in that. But there needs to be some sort of realization that some people work just as hard as you, harder than you and still come up short.

That is why I respect Heather Armstrong so much. She acknowledges her privilege. Recognizes that in a lot of ways she is just really really lucky. And she is using her position as the most successful blogger on the block to benefit other people. People who otherwise I would never think or hear about. That is what I want to do with my students. Inspire them to use their privilege for good.

What have you done for ME lately?

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We took the two oldest of the Grimes clan (remember, we kiddo swap with them) with us to the drive-in on Wednesday. We may have used the borrowed trucks bed as a giant sized kiddie corral. It was fun. We saw Cars 2 and I was reminded that when we first started watching the kids the oldest (we’ll call him J) was always telling us how cool Lightning McQueen was. Only he used the t sound for the c sound and thus was always telling us how tool Lightning MtTween was. It was hilarious. He now pronounces everything correctly and also thoroughly enjoyed the movie. Impressively he stayed up for the whole thing.

On the way home the girls were conked out, but J wanted to know where his youngest brother (S) was and if he would be at the house. I told J that S would be staying the night with a friend of mommy’s. But I couldn’t remember the name of said friend and was trying to get J to understand. So I asked if he remembered the church he went to with mommy before they moved, the one they still go to with Grandpa and Nanny. But I wasn’t speaking his language. Because of the every other weekend custody agreement, the kids have 2 churches that are “their church.” But it all got confused when I was using my labels. J let me know how he keeps track by asking me, “Do you mean the doughnut church, or the lollipop church?” At 1027, J gets doughnuts. At his other church, the kids get lollipops. It is a great way to keep the churches straight in a 5 year old mind. I have since started using those labels.

Here is the thing though. I realized I do this too. I label the church, my neighborhood, my school and for me especially my relationships based on what I am getting out of them. That is my fun friend, that is my mom-advice friend, that is my God friend, and sometimes I think, that friend isn’t getting me anything…..why is she in my life again? Why go to the doughnut church if the doughnuts have stopped coming? Why go to the lollipop church if the candy counter is closed?

I’m not saying it isn’t important to make sure we are being fed. Or that we shouldn’t have our needs met by the church, or the relationships we participate in. I am just saying…..Maybe my primary label of people shouldn’t be all about what they can get me.

Man, I was intending this post to be light. And here I go exposing my dirty under-belly for all the internet to see…..

My pain ain’t your pain

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In less than three months I am going to give birth again…..and I am PUMPED. I know that may sound totally bizarre to some. I know women who have only had one child that cite child birth as the main reason they didn’t have another. It is always something along the lines of making a deal with God that if the epidural worked they would NEVER get themselves in that position again.But for me it wasn’t like that.

Maybe it was because I had an AWESOME book that is now out of print (I looked into getting it for a friend, but $68, ouch). Maybe it is because I have a high pain tolerance after years of fibromyalgia. Maybe it is because I know LOTS of women who gave birth sans pain meds and are really positive about their birth experiences. But for me birthing babies is a little like what people describe in running marathons. Yes, it hurts, yes there are moments when I feel like I cannot do it. But then you keep going and at the end it is AWESOME and you feel so accomplished, and the natural high that your body gives you………I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I am told that a high like that is very expensive and can have some weird side effects. 
But not every woman comes into the hospital laughing about 6 or 7 centimeters. The nurses were certainly surprised. And not every woman had all the awesome opportunities and support I had. And pain is a really. really, personal thing. Like so personal that we can never experience each others. We can both stick our thumb in the exact same place and get hit by the exact same hammer at the exact same force, and yet….it could very well not be the same pain. Who knows. We’ll never know. Maybe your thumb is super sensitive. Maybe you literally have more pain receptors than I do (people don’t have the same amount, isn’t that crazy?)Maybe my nerves over-react to certain stimuli. It isn’t the same. It never will be.
When you have a muscle disorder for as long as I did, you start thinking about pain, reading about it. The studies about chronic pain are beyond depressing. You actually lose IQ points if you are in chronic pain long enough. You wonder how a body that looks healthy can be in that much pain. You literally forget the sensation of “pain free.” I started to wonder about the pain scale at the hospital. “On a scale of one to ten…” At my worst I calculated that I walked around everyday with what I would describe as a 6…..so what did that mean, was 6 my new zero? Did my scale now go from 6-16 while yours capped at 10? Could I feel more pain than you……like my body had somehow gotten good at it? Would I even notice a 2, or would that now seem like relief. Like a 2 for me would now be like you with an Oxycotin?
 It was all so strange to think about. We can talk about it, and describe and calculate and attempt to define. But we can’t ever experience someone else’s pain. And we shouldn’t pretend that we do. I know what it is like to be told it can’t possibly hurt that bad when you are doing everything you can not to sob uncontrollably and scream the exploitive that rhymes with duck. So do you need an epidural. I don’t know. I’m not you, I can’t actually feel your pain.
I think spiritual-emotional pain is a lot like physical pain. For whatever reason some things that seem the same from the outside, break ups, parental abandonment, heck even a harsh word don’t always hit the same spot in the same way. We certainly don’t feel them in the same way. I have two sisters, and Emily (the oldest) seems to be built less sensitive than I am. Things don’t hit her in the same way. But when I call her crying because….oh who knows why, but my feelings are hurt again…..she doesn’t tell me that it doesn’t hurt, that I shouldn’t be crying. She acknowledges my pain and helps me figure out how to move on.
I however, am often not so gracious. When people are talking about what a difficult time they are having I sometimes am rolling my eyes internally. I want to shout “GET OVER IT! YOU DON’T HAVE PROBLEMS!” But they do. They are hurting, their spiritual nerves are shot. Maybe I would rate their pain as a 2 but I am not the one who is experiencing it. Maybe it is an 8. I wouldn’t know. Often times people are hollowing because there was already a bruise there, you know? I will just have to trust them and hear them and be a little more empathetic. Because your pain, ain’t my pain.

Discipline…..

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I don’t think you can be a disciple without discipline. There are so many awesome examples of disciplined people in my life (my mom’s cup of tea with her Bible and prayer journal open at “her place” at the breakfast table are a firm mental picture in my head.) But, it is something I struggle with, and something I am really struggling with when it comes to writing, I have quite a few projects on my plate right now. Any suggestions? I need help!

Won’t you be my neighbor?

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Sometimes I think modern christians have the tendency to complicate some issues. We have, I love my neighbor month at 1027 church, which I love. We often explore the issue of who exactly our neighbor is. And I have a book on my kindle that I am slowly working my way through that argues that now that we are in a digital age and aware of problems we never would have been aware of back in the day, we have a larger group we need to be calling neighbor. Google expands our virtual neighborhood.

But you know who else is my neighbor….um…..my neighbors. The people who actually live in my neighborhood, in the houses next to mine. Yeah, them. A few weeks ago someone knocked on my door and wanted jumper cables. I could do that. Heck, he didn’t even need me to hook ’em up, just go to my car and get them. I almost didn’t look because I didn’t feel like it. But I did, which is good since I would have had to admit it right here if I hadn’t. Wow, that would’ve sucked.

Tomorrow I have the opportunity to love on my actual neighbors in my actual neighborhood. I am super excited. I have this opportunity because my neighbor Brooke (the one who spiffied my blog up) goes to the neighborhood meetings and helps with passing out the neighborhood letter is in the know. She heard there was a kids carnival being put on by a church in the neighborhood and they needed a face painter. She signed me up!

When I was a girl scout my mom decided that for the purposes of our troop, painting faces beat raking leaves when it came to the service hour requirements. So we spent a couple hours practicing on each other and then signed up for some local festivals. Painting faces is way more fun than raking leaves. Especially when you are sixteen, or pregnant (or both but hopefully not because the girls on that tv show have it rough). I got to face paint last year at the Virginia Highland Summerfest. Our church sits right in the middle of that street festival and there is no where to park that sunday so we are encouraged to volunteer. Christian and I have always volunteered at the kids center because we like kids. And they ALWAYS need people.

Last year the Peanut was just a couple weeks old. We weren’t really sure how that was all going to shake out so we didn’t volunteer. But when the day came we felt like we could manage, as long as we could take the baby. And the kids place was again desperate for volunteers. When we offered our services the woman in charge said something like “what I really need is face painters, please tell me one of you can face paint!” And I could! The best part of face painting is this, people let you lay hand on their kids. It is socially appropriate to touch a shoulder or hold a chin gently still. And while you do you can pray over that child. It was awesome.

So when Brooke heard they needed face painters she said “my friend can do that!” and I have been spending the last forty minutes looking through google image search and bookmarking my favorite designs so I will have some choices for the kids to pick from. I have found that if you just say “what do you want” sometimes the choosing takes more time than the painting (and there is always a line). And sometimes you get requests that are very difficult to fulfill (I want a snake eating a badger…a HONEY badger….and a bear is eating the snake…can you do that….PLEASE….just try….that doesn’t look right…..can I have something else?). Also, my design ideas tend to be sort of girl centric. I only have neices and daughters. I learned to face paint through the girl scouts, and then we would go paint brownie troops. I am awesome at hearts and rainbows, butterflies and schools of dolphins, fairies that rest on one cheek and spit magical swirls all over the little girls face out of her star shaped wand. A boy shows up I am all….a BLUE heart? how about a baseball….you don’t like sport? I can write X-MEN on your cheek…I can draw a green squiggly line and call it a snake. But I found some awesome batman/spider man masks I can paint and a snake or shark that opens its mouth when you open yours!

I am so excited. And I wouldn’t have had this opportunity if Brooke wasn’t purposeful about plugging into our neighborhood. If you don’t ask, how do you know what people need? If you don’t put yourself in a place like the community meeting, you won’t know they need face painters.

The best part about face painting is if you mess up, a new design is just a single wet wipe away.

Here comes SUMMER!

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Summer school ends Tuesday. We are reviewing for our tests and taking finals and then I am DONE (Imagine the sing-song voice my mom always uses when she is excited that I used to think was nerdy. Yeah. I do that.) I am so very grateful that God provided a pretty easy way to store up for maternity leave, yes I sure am. It hasn’t been that bad and I still get all of July off. Plus, I am only going back to school for about a month and a half and then am off until January, so I should have enough time off to not go into the mental ward.

But boy am I chomping at the bit for this all to be over!!!! I have been downloading free chick lit onto my Kindle, coming up with to do lists of how to re-arrange my house. Scheming ways to get to the ocean beach one more time this summer. (Man I really want to take the Peanut….) I am ready to sleep whenever the Peanut sleeps all day if I want to, go to the farmers market and buy whatever I want to eat for that day, make dessert, Christmas shop ( I know it is weird but I like to do it when I have time….not jam it all into December.), wander around IKEA. I want to not tell a teenager to stop talking for a whole month. And I can Tuesday at noon. IT IS SO CLOSE!

Child-care sharing: How does that work?

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So, we child-care share. Or co-op or whatever else you want to call it. Bottom line is we don’t pay for child care because God has lead us into this awesome relationship that we believe not only benefits our wallets, but also our kiddo(s). It is working, and all systems seem to be at go for next year as well. Christian has to get his schedule and then we will figure out the details, but both our and Elizabeth’s desire is to continue the arrangement next year. (I was a little nervous when I got pregnant, it is like, “Hey you will have an extra infant next year I hope you don’t mind”….when she told me she hoped it was the twins I was so relieved. But if God gives us another kid pretty soon….which we are hoping Hdoesn’t…..or if this is the twins…..I don’t think so but you never know, I just know they are coming………He will have to giver her a new van. Which we are praying God will do anyway. Lady needs air conditioning, and a radio, and maybe some remote sliding doors!)

Our arrangement rocks, and I have had more than one person ask me about it because it works so well for us. And because it has NOT worked for some other people I have talked to. It also seems to be a very popular idea recently. I have seen a lot written about it. I think my generation likes to put a label on things (join a child-care co-op!) our parents and grand parents have been doing for years (watching each others kids…duh) and then claiming them as a bold new-fangled parenting solution for the  modern world! As I have been thinking about this I have figured out some things that make our arrangement particularly succesful.

Parenting Styles: We parent in a very similar way as Elizabeth. If you aren’t down with the way someone parents that is fine, but I think it is unreasonable to drop your kid off at their house with their kids and then insist that you do XYZ with little Logan, please follow the same rules. Food allergies and other legitimatly special needs issues are different. But don’t expect your friend to take care of your kid with a whole different set of rules than she takes care of hers. And mostly we follow the who/how rule. I trust who I leave my kids with so I don’t worry about how every single thing goes down. If you are a micro-manager then you need to pay some one. That way it isn’t uncomfortable when you boss them around.

Friendly arrangement or Business: Decide early, is this a business arrangement with set times, or a set number of hours a week? Or is it more loosey goosey like we have a mutual understanding that when we call each other we will say yes if at all possible? Are extra times “allowed”? Will you try to keep that even-stephen too? We started with set times. The peanut went there Tuesday and Thursday and we watched the Grimes clan on Monday and Friday. Now we have a general two day two night arrangement. Elizabeth lets us know when she is working when she gets her schedule and the Peanut goes over there when Christian decides is best for him. If we need extra, we ask but don’t expect anything. It works for us.

How many: Elizabeth has three kids, we only have one. It doesn’t bother us. We don’t have some sort of formula where our hours equal more becuase there are more kids. Her kids are older so I don’t have to dress or change all but her youngest. They aren’t likely to eat something and force me to call poison control because they have surpassed the “stick everything in your mouth” stage (I’m looking at you Peanut….). I can leave them in a room for a minute and trust they aren’t going to hurt themselves. Plus, we put the kids to bed not very long after Elizabeth leaves, so half of our time babysitting is spent watching Netflix on the couch. But for some people number of kids is a big deal. Not everyone would sign up to watch 5 children 6 and under……welcome to January ’12!

The Age Gap: For some having everyone in the same stage is helpfu, for us I think it works better that they are not in the same age range. Part of it is personality…..adult personality. I love my babies but I am not a baby snatcher by nature. I won’t stalk you at church to grab your new born and smell her tiny head. I have found the Peanut much more enjoyable to spend the day with since about her birthday. But Elizabeth, holy baby lover. The teeny feet, the little cries she loves to walk around with a baby in the sling (which is good because in just a few short months I have a tenant for that sling!) and lament how much bigger they have gotten in the week she hasn’t seen them. She doesn’t find the infant stage to be as draining as I do. Meanwhile, I dig school age kids. I like answering “why” and explaining things in a way a kid understands. I just find kids funnier and much easier to deal with when we can actually understand each other. Christian is pretty even in the developmental preferences so that evens everything out. I guess.

Grace: Ultimately it takes some grace to make this arrangement work. You have to give it, and you have to make sure you are  not taking advantage of too much grace taken not enough extended. That shakes out a little differently for everyone, but too many arrangements that I have heard of erode into one person being the free baby-sitter for the other family and quietly resenting it.

Can you speak up: If you need to re-work, or end the arrangement are you the kind of person who can? If you keep saying “yes” then some of that frustration you are feeling needs to rest on you. Do you trust God enough to know when this relationship ends another way will open up? At some point Elizabeth may get a day job, our kids will be in school when I am, Christian may get a ridiculously high paying job and I will homeschool, Elizabeth will become a best selling author and go on her book tour for two months. We will both be best selling authors and go on matching book tours and leave all the kids with Christian for two months (Thanks honey, you are the best!) Whatever the case may be, it ain’t forever. And that is okay. But when the time comes, somebody needs to say something.

I think that God put this relationship in our lap for a variety of reasons. One of the pastors at our church said that us doing this for each other is the gospel being lived out. It sure feels like it. And imagine if this were the norm at churches, that people truly live lives together and meet each others needs. Heck, if people were regularly doing this for each other I think people would show up at churches in droves just to get in on the action!