Come Hell or High Water

Well on a positive note we got the latter. I have many irrational fears. Water has never been one of them. Notice the past tense. This post was going to be titled "A Lesson in Minimalism". That was before our adventures in the lagoon. That post was going to recap our travels to Iowa complete with missed connections, extended stays on the runway and 3 days with no luggage. And believe it or not an actually really good trip despite the hang ups. It was going to talk about all the preparations this type a momma had done to brave the skies with her little one and how in the end not one crazy target run proved to do any good as our bags flew around the Midwest. My mom used to always talk about "teachable moments". I believe in teachable seasons. Really I believe that we are always being taught,stretched,refined. I just think sometimes it comes as an intensive course. Sometimes it's crunch time. On the way home from the trip Chris and I were laughing about how crazy it had been. How little we actually need and how it kinda felt good to not have all the "extra baggage". Little did we know what awaited us at home. We arrived home at 11pm to the sound of rushing water. It's one of those sounds that you recognize in an instant. Especially when it's coming from inside the walls. I would be lying if I said I was not horrified when I walked through the door. Within minutes of standing there dumbfounded I was soaking wet. After rushing e up to bed we immediatedly started dragging what we could outside. For some context, we have been in the basement apartment of Chris parents house while we are building. We have all of our stuff concentrated in 2 rooms. Yes we have furniture in storage but being the sentimental one that I am I had kept all the photos,wedding stuff, etc with us so it would be "safe". Oh the things we think we can control. As I layed out pages of letters, pictures, e's toys and clothes I found myself audibly repeating "it's not a fire." If it was a fire I could not even be hoping these would dry out. We are safe. We are healthy. God is good. Now if you know me you probably wouldn't classify me as an optimist. And you'd be right. I like to call it realist. Not always what I want but probably the most accurate description. I often get caught up on the little things that don't seem to be going just as I think they should. Sometimes it takes a big thing to shed some perspective. I am stubborn. Apparently I don't respond to subtle hints. Sometimes the status quo has to be shaken to the point where i have no choice but to admit that I can't do it. That I can't hold it all together. And that I don't have control. Yes being nomadic with a one year old for the next month as the space is rebuilt is less than ideal. Yes we lost some things that were special. But I am thankful the Lord is working on me. I am thankful I am loved by a God who answers prayer. Prayers for patience, for strength, for growth. Even when those answers come through pain.