holding on to hope today, and the sense of expectancy has been very stirring over the last week or so. maybe in part it's just spring fever. we've had tastes of warm weather, hyacinths and daffodils are in bloom, tulips are making a valient effort to open up, and birds are nesting... so why not? it's in the air, i suppose.
a couple weeks ago, we bought a crib. got a great deal on it. basically, the nursery is fully furnished now. things we do, even though we say we never will. "i don't want to see an empty nursery every day...", i remember saying to somebody when we started the adoption process... and while the door stays mostly shut, i every once and a while feel the urge to sit in there for a few minutes, wonder, smile, and wonder some more. i remember reading love stories about pioneers traveling across the prairies, when i was a pre-teen. the girls all had "hope chests". they would knit little baby blankets and save dresses, and whatever else. it was tradition. of course they'd have babies one day. it was what you did. it was the next stage of life. i guess i am just one of those girls. we've gradually built up our supplies, and readied our home to welcome the next generation to our little home... we keep working away, trusting that at the right time, that next chapter will begin. the anticipation of flipping pages in those stories (where a birth was inevitable and ultimately my favorite part of the story) is similar to my feelings now. wishing i could turn ahead, but learning to relish the whole story, not try to read ahead, but take in all the text, and let the story unfold.
this Easter weekend, while i paint our "family room", walk my dog in the warm spring sunshine, and celebrate with friends and little ones the excitement and wonder of "up from the grave He arose" i celebrate that there is so much too wonderful for us to understand fully, and embrace the joy of God's all-knowing love for us.
