It's crazy how quickly four months can fly by.
It's even crazier how much can be packed into four months.
There are at least a dozen or two blog posts that could be written. Actually, I'm determined to get them written.
If there's anything this thing called adulthood has taught me, it's that each day is a roller coaster and there really are very, very, very few days that are either good days or bad days, weeks that are good weeks or bad weeks. It's all just a messy combination of joy and pain, hurt and happiness.
There is finding out that you need braces and mouth surgery.
There is happy Thanksgiving family time (even though all you can eat is mashed potatoes and squash and pumpkin pie, thanks to said braces being put on a week earlier).
There is never-ending physical pain.
There are birthdays and chocolate.
There is the super fun and indecisive annual Christmas tree cutting.
There are birthdays and chocolate.
There is the super fun and indecisive annual Christmas tree cutting.
There are twinkling lights and mugs of cocoa and sledding and Christmas cookies.
There is walking the streets of Chicago surrounded by wintry and Christmasy beauty.
There is walking the streets of Chicago surrounded by wintry and Christmasy beauty.
There is huge financial uncertainty and stress.
There is the incredible joy of holding a new little nephew after over a half dozen years of waiting and praying.
There is the incredible joy of holding a new little nephew after over a half dozen years of waiting and praying.
There is family stress that just never goes away.
There is the sheer amazement of watching God provide miraculously so that you can experience the excitement of moving.
There is also the stress of moving.
There are countless medical appointments all. the. time.
There are chocolate chip pancakes on Saturday mornings.
There is the absolute stress and fear of facing the potential of being off work for months due to a hand/wrist injury that just will. not. heal.
There are baby snuggles and coos and smiles and tiny hands and feet.
There are baby snuggles and coos and smiles and tiny hands and feet.
There are the tears and hurt for your baby brother when you get the news that he broke his wrist again and his amazing active athletic self is laid up and unable to finish the basketball season.
There are the tears of gratitude when your family is there for you when your physical limitations cause you to need them so desperately.
There is the fun (and humiliation) of going downhill skiing for the first time.
There is the amusement of barely being able to walk for a couple days afterwards.
There are Bible studies and devotionals that just hit spot on for right where you are at and boost your faith and keep you going.
There is laughing until you cry over the stupidest things.
There is bawling your eyes out from hurt and frustration and pain and uncertainty.
There is throwing the tennis ball with your golden retriever in the snow.
There is laundry and cleaning and cooking and errands and shoveling and dog poop scooping.
There are hoodies and cups of coffee and Snoopy slippers.
But really, it's all comes down to this: there is life.
And it's beautiful and ugly and messy and fun and painful and exciting and crazy and scary and full and really just a roller coaster of faith and trust and letting go and living in the moment.
Without the ugly, we wouldn't appreciate the beautiful.
Without the pain, we wouldn't know the depth of joy.
Without the scary, we wouldn't learn to trust.