one step at a time.

It's funny what a few years can do for your maturity. When I was pregnant with Eli, I had terrible morning sickness (as I did with Gabriel, as I ended up having with Noah as well), and I felt this justified me checking out of pretty much all non-vital activity. I was a no-show at church for months; from my absence, you'd think I was suffering from something far more perilous than an upset stomach.

I am currently in a season that I have labeled "One of Those Times Where I Really, Really Feel Like An Adult". Because when things got rough like this when I was a kid, I'd take lots of naps on the weekends, console myself with some of my mom's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and snuggle into my dad's side while he watched the evening news after dinner. Unfortunately my parents are on the other side of the country and naps are hard to come by these days. Like it or not, the roughness must be dealt with head-on. Wince if you like.

And sometimes I do wake up on Sunday mornings, still, and bemoan my obligation to go to church and deal with all those perky people when all I want is a pint of ice cream and some quiet. But a few years can do a lot... So I rinse my self-absorption off while I rinse the conditioner from my hair, slip on an outfit and slide the baby onto my hip, and our little troupe of family -the four males that all look the same but in varying heights, and me- and we buckle into the van and drive across town to church.

Yes, a few years can do a lot. All those perky people melted my heart this morning. I let my husband voice my prayer requests -"I can't say it out loud... right now," I mouthed to him- and even though I was busy doodling on my handout and pursing my lips to keep back tears, I could feel the love and concern radiating across the room. It was exactly what I needed.

Later, we sat in the sanctuary, Ben and I, and he held my hand and sometimes squeezed it a few times until I looked up and smiled. I listened to my pastor give an excellent sermon and felt some sanity return to my world in being reminded that there was still life to attend to even when you're feeling blind-sided with confusing hurts. We'll figure things out, He and I, with a little help from my friends.