More Catching Up

I didn't want to completely overwhelm you, so I split the pictures I accumulated over the last six weeks into two posts.  You're welcome. :)

I cannot. get. enough of him.

He looks so much like his daddy sometimes.  Minus the blue eyes - he gets those from his mommy.

- - -

This was the night before Beck left.  We had a similar series of pictures, I think, sometime before I left for West Africa.  Or maybe it was after I got back from MTC.  I don't know.

Anyway, I like sisters-on-the-counter pictures.

We are all, I believe, slightly insane.  Some of us just have enough courage to let it show.

Or something.

"Ha!  I've got Auntie's camera and she can't get it away from me.  Snap!"

Chill, people.  It was apple cider.  I promise.  And the bottle was practically empty.

- - -

Sarah, Malachi, and I flew down for a couple days to help Beck get settled in her new digs.

"Hold on, I'd better give this place an inspection first."

Malachi was a champ on the flights (it was his first time).  He slept most of the way, cried very little, and amused himself by looking over the in-flight menu.

Food.  It's his one weakness.  (You think I'm kidding?  You should see him eat...)

- - -

Travels over, back to ordinary life...

Which is pretty funny, he thinks.

- - -

As for me, well...

The summer was crazy.  Every week seemed so full, things all piled up high in wobbly stacks.

(Side note: I know I'm not unique in this.  I'm pretty sure y'all can relate at some point or another.)

The past two weeks or so, in contrast, have seemed almost too quiet, and the quiet has been unexpectedly hard to adjust to.

I'm not used to time and space like this.  I haven't been for a very long time.

So when the hurry slows, I feel odd.
Unproductive.
Uncomfortable.
Empty.

I'm waiting in this quiet, too, wanting to make decisions but knowing some pieces of the puzzle are out of my hands at this point.  And so I wait.

I'd like to believe that waiting on the Lord gives us answers and direction, but sometimes I think He simply gives us His presence - Himself - and no answers.  It's hard for me, 'cause I like action and certainty and moving forward.

In-between times are the perfect opportunity for doubt and fear to raise their ugly heads.  Am I doing enough and praying enough and trying enough?  What do I have to offer for this time?  Nothing to show for at all!

What if what He does through these in-between times is so much bigger, deeper, and more valuable than all the things I think I'm doing for Him the rest of the time?

Maybe He doesn't want my doing so much as He wants me.

Maybe it's okay not to have answers and everything figured out.

Maybe I can still write, speak, or share even when nothing seems to be happening.

Maybe quiet and small and insignificant are things to embrace instead of to hide from.

Maybe I'm just supposed to be and live this everyday, ordinary life because it's not even about what I'm doing, but Christ living in me.

Maybe this was what Paul was talking about, jars of clay and Christ in us and glory shining through.