Two o'clock a.m. There aren't many occasions where you might welcome a phone call from the police at two in the morning. Despite being woken up, it sure felt good to hear that the truck had been found, amidst other stolen trucks. We know very little at this point as to how or exactly when it was found, who they arrested, or even what shape it's in. Nor do we know if they've recovered any of the contents that went missing, either. The truck has been shuffled between the police, the impound, and the insurance company, so we haven't even seen it yet. But at least we're not stuck wondering where it might be, with who, and why?
I'm pretty doggone exhausted, though. Too many late nights. (I'm a morning person, not a night owl). Too much going on in too short of a period of time. A little too much stress. I haven't even made it to the grocery store this week yet!
I look forward to a restful Easter weekend, with no soccer games, no trips, no big social events, etc. There's a reason God calls us to seasons of rest. I am hoping that He will call me to enter one soon. I am craving a few long, quiet mornings around here, and I know the boys are craving a few long mornings to sleep in after their weekend running all over everywhere while we were gone (It truly took a village to accommodate them for just three short days, but that's for another post, another time.)
- I am a wife, daughter, mother, bilingual teacher, poet, author, women's Bible study teacher, world traveler, orphan advocate, and an adoptive mother. Our adoption journey has been filled with a lot of hurt and loss, along with even more hope, grace, and healing. Through it we have experienced more of God than we ever bargained for and have watched Him miraculously redeem our story when we surrendered all the broken pieces to Him.