The In-Between

If you’ve noticed I haven’t been posting as frequently as I used to, it’s because… well… we’ve entered the WMP.  Yep, it’s true.  It’s a quiet kind of place.

The “Weird Middle Phase” is this period we’ve found ourselves in where we’ve finished all of our paperwork, yet we’re not quite to the waiting period yet.  Right now, we’ve done all we’ve been given at this point, and we’re just waiting on our social worker to contact us about starting our home study (interviews, the home visit, and then processing our completed file).  It’s hard to know exactly how to feel at this point in the journey.  Anxious doesn’t work because it’s entirely out of our hands.  Patience (and trust) is the name of the game in general, so that’s not any different.  Vivacious dream world?  Lack of enthusiasm?  While simultaneously, desperately wanting to see the future?  All good points, WMP.

It’s a wonderful opportunity to seek God and draw nearer to Him while we wait kind of like the doldrums.  Or Never Never Land.  Or all of the above. :)

Actually, life is pretty good right now.  If there any other reasons I haven’t been posting as frequently, it’s because I don’t want to bore anyone with the blissfulness!

Trey and I are really learning to find contentment in the here and now.  Will we have to rent for longer than we anticipated after we sell our condo?  Possibly probably.  Do we have a timeline for when our sweet family grows into three?  Unfortunately not.  Could we easily paint a picture of exactly how we want our life to be?  Absolutely.

Does God has plans for the in-between?  More than we could imagine…

I’ve heard it said before that “Gratitude turns what we have into enough.”  If that’s true, then I think Contentment turns what we have into good enough.  Comparison, or dreaming, or the world itself all constantly tell us where we should or need to be (or have).  And all of it leads us on a one-way train to Destination Thinking:  Everything will be better when we get to    this point.   

As I read recently:  When is a dangerous place to hang your Hope.

Instead, there is beauty in our present reality.  It allows us to truly appreciate and be so grateful for things like the simple act of taking dinner down to the beach this past Saturday night and having a peaceful evening all to ourselves — be it because of a rough season at work for one of us, or simply the fact that no kids yet allows us these spontaneous opportunities.

Beach night for two.

Beach night for two.

Under the pier.

Under the pier — all about perspective.

A view that sure beats watching TV on the couch!

A view that sure beats watching TV on the couch!

So much to be thankful for...

So much to be thankful for…

Let’s be real:  The only “destination” thinking I need to be doing right now is our trip to Cancun over Thanksgiving week with Trey’s family!  Woo-hoo, now that’s some destination thinking I can get behind!!! ;)

This past weekend, I got the privilege and perspective of visiting a friend and her precious new baby girl.  It was so wonderful to see her in her new role and watch her with the baby and just share in the joy of this fleeting stage of life.  (Can you believe I don’t have any pictures?!)  I made up a little breakfast basket to take over, and we talked about baby preparation and mom things, and how refreshing it was for me to see this beautiful, thoughtfully created nursery… that the baby has barely set foot in yet and won’t for months to come!  So funny how we expect one thing and life brings us far better.  I got some great advice from her (so grateful for the FMC, “Fellow Mom Community,” already… including the strong encouragement to receive the help I am offered with a newborn — not to justify that I don’t need any because, unlike most other moms, I won’t be physically recovering during that time.

So, in the in-between, we have a choice.  Appreciate what makes this exact season so wonderful and full of purpose.  Continue learning.  Trust God.  Pray for our child, and the birthparents, and the actions of our agency.

Live every day.

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