IPA and Growing Up
Moving has me all sorts of thankful-tired. Reflecting on birthday parties in the backyard and this is the place we brought Van home to. Our life is all boxed up as we wait for our next home.
It feels all brand new. Not just the physical moving to a new city; something at the pit of my soul has gained a rising strength, a momentum. I’m beginning to see a bit of the joy and fruit from what has been a hard, long season. There seems to be a bit more light in our lives and I can’t quite define it. Maybe it’s being out of the infant stage..or that we have settled on a church. Maybe it’s because our community has never been stronger.
Drew and I sat across from each other on barstools. I discovered I like IPA beer after sheepishly telling the bartender that “I like light beer…” which is actually not true at all..then I confessed that, “I only drink wine..” as he judged me and moved onto my husband who actually enjoys beer.
So, yeah, I like IPA apparently and I also enjoy the sight of my husbands face, which has been a rare sight..he’s been working a ton and on his days off, we have been moving and working and signing papers and children/moving (craziness).
Life hasn’t been the easy road we pictured when he kneeled down on that splintery pier. It seems rest has been far from us these (almost) 5 years.
We reflected on our life together and I blurted out, “we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for all those damn hard times.”
That’s it, what feels different. I’ve been reflecting on our years and it makes me believe and feel strong. We can do hard things.
I closed my eyes and remembered Drew dancing to the plush, singing monkey; the only thing that made our colicky baby shush for a quick second. The Thanksgiving where I realized I was loose with boundaries and had to ask forgiveness. The time he told me he has never loved me more as when I am being completely real. Losing his sweet daddy too soon. Church hopping, friends moving far, questioning faith, depression, family addiction problems. This is all our story and we wouldn’t be here without it. We cry of joy when we watch our 4 year old prance across the grass and poke her baby brother in the tummy. Giggles fill our home (and fighting/screaming/pooping too) and we wouldn’t be here without our very unplanned honeymoon baby. Our plans being completely disarrayed and we have survived (barely).
So I guess the leaning in, the making do, the one day at a time has payed off in some ways..not that we now “get life” completely; but we have a bit more strength in our steps. We know that no matter what, we can make it through; That chaos and changed plans and sloppy moves are okay, that laughter and tears and pizza in bed are normal because life is hard and good all together. That we need one another, but can rely on each other to always be strong. Jesus is the only true rock. That talking it through might take a few days. That being hurt is okay and crying is healthy and brave. That noticing a butterfly flutter through the yard and a glass of lemonade might be the only peace in a day. That too much time comparing can leave you greedy and discontent. That a good worship song, journaling or serving each other is usually the best remedy. (A long drive to get a mint Oreo blizzard also helps).
Maybe it’s the giving up of “ideal” and the giving into the “real.” An awareness that life WILL NOT go as planned. I repeat, it WILL NOT and guess what, it’s going to be okay..actually, its going to be just right. Trust the process and forget the ideal, it’s not even real. (I know that kind of rhymed and is cheesy, but I’m leaving it)
Love to you,
ps. light beer is super gross even thought thats what I have claimed to "like" for years. lol