Can life get any. . . life-ier?

Know what I did tonight?
I played poker with my nine year old.
Now, before you get all lathered up about what I'm teaching the boy, I'll have you know he was teaching me. I've never played poker in all my . . . well, many years.
He came home from school with this newfound knowledge earlier in the week. What?! I'm sure poker fits into a classical education somehow, right . . . No, actually his friend taught him.
What?! I have to worry about this now . . .
Although I am reticent about my child participating in such a "worldly" past-time, after a thorough moral lesson on the evils of gambling, we sat right down with a bowl of peanuts and pistachios between us and cut the deck.
It was so much fun.
I suspect we are not playing it entirely correctly, but oh well.
It was good to sit and relax and get my mind off of everything else that is going on, and to be able to spend time with my boys while doing it.
I've been a bit stressed today.
We signed the contract for our house, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, it is officially sold.
We also looked at some houses today, and we spent a lot of time at one in particular that we've had our eye on since we put our house on the market almost a year ago. It is not my "dream house"; I can be realistic about that. But I think it could be. It is a nice house, a light house, a peaceful, friendly, inviting house with lots of yard and land for the three boys to fight pirates and ride horses and conquer Rome, and whatever else it is boys do when they play outside in wide open spaces.
We looked at that house twice today. Once this morning, and once more this evening with the boys (who spent the entire time wrestling around in every room! They feel at home already.)
We were feeling good about the house and were prepared to make an offer in the morning.
After arriving home and ordering pizza for a Friday night treat, our realtor called and said, "You're not going to believe this but . . ."
Apparently, not more than five minutes after we pulled out of the driveway of that house, a couple called and said they were preparing to make an offer on that very same house, and would have made a verbal offer right then, but they were turned down on that because they do not have their financing secured yet.
My heart sunk into my toes, and my faith wavered ever so slightly.
After calling Joe frantically to explain the situation, and discussing it in brief, he called and put a bid in, but . . . we'll see.
It is all I can do to keep from biting all my nails off and crying my head off.
It's all so emotional, this house stuff.
Poker night is over and all the boys are sleeping soundly. I am not able to sleep just yet. There are so many things going through my mind. All the packing, all the toting, all the settling in again. And if we lose this house, what are we to do?
It is overwhelming.
I turn, as I always must, to scripture. I look for answers not in myself, but in Him who is "over all, and through all, and in all" (Eph. 4:6) and while reading Ps. 94, I come upon this: "When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul."
Console me, O God. Bring joy to my soul as only you can. It is in You, and not houses or lands that my peace and my joy is found. Help me not to forget that in this process.
If you read this, please pray with us that we will have peace and wisdom as we are in this process.

Home, Sweet Home

We are selling our house.

Yup. The cozy yellow cottage will enfold some other family soon, will hold their feasting, laughing, yelling, snuggling, crying, sleeping, waking, dreaming, being within its noble timbers as it has held ours this past year and a half, almost two years, really.
We've been here such a short time, but there have been many memories made. Happy ones, sad ones, good ones, great ones, bad ones. All ours to take with us where ever we are going.
As sorry as I am to leave this house, I know that a house does not a home make. Home is made by the people in the house, by how they live together and how they love each other and what they believe in.
There is a great adventure in our near future. There is another house out there to become acquainted with, to make our home. It is quite exciting, really.
God is God, and we believe that He alone is sovereign, that He is good, and that He has plans for each of our lives, separately and as a family. He is more interested in home than anyone because He created it. He knows, even now, where we will be when the dust settles from all of this, even though we do not yet.
I rest in this. I thank Him for His kindness to us thus far.
I will not be anxious about this (though at times that takes a concentrated effort). I will, in all things, with prayer and thanksgiving present my request to God.
My request is this: God, draw us to the house that is to be ours; dwell there even now, fill it with Your peace and presence, preparing the way for us to come home.

Otto's + shoe skating = one great day

Today, we got up and went to breakfast at Otto's with mom. It was a nice treat for the boys, who ordered cinnamon rolls. They were as big as their faces! And as sweet, too. Usually, I don't approve of so much sugar at breakfast, or anytime, really, but sometimes a treat has to be a treat.
It was typical eggs and bacon for me, with a toasted English muffin. Mom had the same.
Otto's is one of those nifty mid-west cafes which remains unchanged by time. When you walk in the door, you are thrown back to the late '40s, early '50s at least. The counter, the stools, the booths -- all vintage in gray and blue and pink. It's the kind of place that makes you stop looking at your watch. You feel safe there. You forget that one day very soon crazy people may be running our country.
Breakfast was lovely, and Daniel even got in on the action with a little egg yolk. Yum.
We headed to grandpa's after our meal.
We've been getting freezing rain here the past few days, and many streets and sidewalks are paved in a crystalline layer of ice. Grandpa's driveway is covered, a single slippery surface that slopes into the street, which is also encrusted in a thick layer of ice. The boys got out of the truck and immediately began sliding all around, giggling with glee and falling on their knees, and sometimes other areas with more padding! Josiah shouted to me as I was gingerly walking to the front door with Daniel, "Look mom! I'm shoe-skating!!"
Everything is a great adventure for my sons. They find the challenge, the wonder, the fun in just about anything they are faced with. There is an abandon with which they meet life. A trust that everything will be all right. And when they are knocked on their small rumpuses, providing there is no bloodshed (that's a whole other scene altogether), they get back up and keep on skating.
I watch them from the door. I smile at them. I fear for them. I pray for them. I pray they will keep on skating. . . no matter what.