my striving, His promises, and buying a home

 I burst into tears telling Dan, “I just don’t feel like God wants us to have nice and good things.” Whoa. Where did this come from? I got in the shower, where I seem to do my best processing lately — maybe it’s the lavender bath salt I’ve been dumping out every time — and I pretty quickly figured it out.

In the past month, we’ve decided to commit to staying in Indianapolis when Dan finishes residency, unless we feel a strong calling to go elsewhere. The appeal of the Pacific Northwest and other more glamorous, scenic areas of the country is strong. Our minds tell us to go and explore living other places while we’re still young! But our hearts are telling us the Lord has called us here and we need to lay aside some of our city-hopping desires to commit fully to our friends, church community, and city. Like, invest in the good of our city. 

With this commitment, we’ve started talking about home buying. When we should do it, where we should do it, if we should do it, or if we should ride out this we-don’t-have-to-mow-the-lawn situation as long as possible. Our home buying decisions were majorly sped up when I walked by my “dream house.” We (foolishly?) went to see it before taking the other steps one usually takes before touring homes for sale.

This house sent me into a tizzy. I wasn’t sleeping well. And I was obsessed with the thought of relaxing baths in a nice, new bathtub, and our children playing on the floors of their freshly carpeted bedrooms. I wanted it badly. We started looking more closely at our finances and talking about goals and contacting banks. And then the tears and frustration and fear and worry hit.

Because, here’s what I have foolishly taught myself: If I don’t work hard enough and fast enough to get something I want, God will take it away. Unfortunately, I still kick myself about not overnight mailing a specific document for our international adoption a few years ago. It’s truly possible that if we had overnighted it, our boys would have been home two years ago. I can’t let it go. And I use it as The Example for why I must always work hard and fast. And The Example for why I think God sometimes punishes me for not working hard enough and fast enough.

That’s a load of sad, yucky, untruthful lies, isn’t it?

I burst into tears, got in the shower, and realized I’m believing the lie that I must work as hard and as fast as possible to get a good thing God has set before me. And that if I don’t work hard and fast, He will take it away.

The very real truth is that He has plans for me and He wants my good. Ultimately, this “dream house” may be out of our reach financially. Or we won’t get things in order in time to make an offer on it. Or we will find out it’s not a good option for our little family. I don’t need to strive and fret. I don’t need to dwell on the paperwork that wasn’t overnighted. I can feel peace and hope going forward at all times.

motherhood makes for a terrible hobby

I observed it a bit before becoming a mother, and I’ve confirmed it to be true now that I’m a little more inside the motherhood circle. It can be very easy to make motherhood a hobby. And if I may be honest, it really doesn’t make a good hobby for me.

I was slow to get in motherhood-type groups and conversations with other mamas. I hoped I wouldn’t be enveloped in conversations about cloth diapering and natural childbirth and baby food and potty training. I just don’t enjoy it. I wanted to talk about my favorite TV shows or the book I just finished or the new restaurant I just tried. These are really fun for me. They make me excited!

Do hear me say this: If you really enjoy talking about the ins and outs of the methods and products and experiences you have used and had as a mother, I respect that. If your experiences have more often than not been hard and unenjoyable, I respect that, and that may very well be me at some point. If mothering little people makes you pop out of bed each morning with vigor for the day, I really respect that.

But motherhood doesn’t make a good hobby for me. I find great joy in my son. I love being his mama, and I love watching him grow and develop. I don’t love dwelling on his tendency to take 45-minute naps. I don’t love talking about the types of diapers he wears (Kirkland Signature) or the types of baby food we feed him (whatever is on sale).

I have to remind myself of one fact in all of this: God has designed and equipped each of us differently. He has given us each unique passions and interests. Some of us like to widely share all our struggles and some of us like to widely share only specific struggles and some of us choose to only share struggles with our two closest friends. I sinfully struggle to offer grace to people who aren’t like me. At times I really struggle to offer grace to the mamas who are grumpy and negative and weary. I do think it will be me one day, though. And I hope to goodness you offer me grace when it is.

I want to remind you of one fact: Though we were all united under this common purpose and call on our lives as mothers, we all have so many other parts of ourselves to share. Treating motherhood as your ultimate hobby and finding your identity in it will eventually let you down and suck you dry. I like hobbies that bring me rest and fuel my creativity and educate me. So far, I’ve seen very little of that happening when my sole focus day-in and day-out is keeping this little man safe, rested, and fed.

Motherhood is a highly important calling, but it’s really fun and okay to immerse ourselves in other healthy interests and hobbies. So, if you’re feeling let down and sucked dry while you sit down to feed baby another bowl of turkey and rice pureed mush, remember you have so much more to offer to those who know you, and God has given you so much more to enjoy. There’s room for all of us and all our interests in the mom conversations.

Milo: months 6 + 7

I started crying at Milo’s bedtime last night. Dan was holding him in the rocking chair while I saw sitting on the guest bed in his nursery. I had just put him in size 18 months pajamas (that have to run small!) and a new, bigger sleep sack. He looked so dang big sprawled out in Dan’s lap, and then he held his own bottle. And promptly dropped it. But, man, time is flying. I wish I had savored more of his tiny days. I wish I had cuddled him more and read to him more and taken more pictures of him. This is very normal, right?


A few little things I want to remember, because I’m afraid they’ll go away some day soon: He always sneezes twice in a row, and he almost always makes a sighing/murmuring sound after he sneezes. It’s the cutest. He gives a pretty stern and non-expressive face to strangers who talk to him, but the lucky ones get to see a smile cracked for a brief bit. He likes looking up at me while I walk around with him in a carrier. He’s discovered his hair, and he likes running his fingers through it when he’s tired.

He loves when I sing hymns in my old lady church voice, and it’s the easiest way to get him to smile on demand for pictures. He wakes up happy all the time. He strokes and chews on his blankie and rolls around and talks to himself sweetly. We frequently don’t know what time he woke up in the morning, because he’s so quiet when he does. He also talks to himself softly in the car after we’ve been out in some sort of social setting like Dan’s work events or church. I like to think he’s rehashing what he saw and did. Also, the big closed-mouth smile? My favorite.


Sleeps: We’ve had some ups and downs in this department the last couple months. Teething, travel, and sickness threw our little buddy off. Lots of 45-minute naps and multiple nighttime wake-ups. We seem to have turned a corner, though. He’s sleeping through the night again most nights, and he seems to be taking longer naps most days.

He’s a bit of a mess if he’s overtired, so we try like crazy to avoid that. He seems to enjoy his little naptime routine of putting on his sleep sack, turning on the sound machine, and being handed his blankie. He puts himself to sleep for naps and bedtime. We’ve managed that without any “crying it out,” and I’m really proud of that. I read a lot about awake time lengths in babies at different ages, and I’ve learned his sleepy signals. I may be a little too informed about baby sleep patterns right now, but we’re all happier with lots of sleep and no crying!


He drinks about six ounces of formula every four hours and has solids in between. He’s slowly tapering off how much he drinks as he eats more. We’ve done a mix of feeding him purees and letting him feed himself different foods. Letting him feed himself usually results in food in his hair and lots on the floor for Oscar to eat. He seems to like everything equally right now and doesn’t mind when we introduce new foods. He really likes warm rice cereal, and he’ll open wide for that over and over again.

Likes: I think Milo still likes just about everything. Seriously. He really likes water… He’s happy to kick and flap if we hold him in the pool, and he really likes laying on his back in the tub when it’s filled with very shallow water. He kicks his little legs and flaps his arms and talks to himself. He has never fussed in the water. I think he forgets any amount of tiredness or hunger or coldness he feels when he’s in there.


He loves being outside. Walks are still way fun for him, and he’s happy to chew on the straps of the stroller harness the whole time. He’s started trying to grab at Oscar’s leash to help us walk him. Really, he seems to enjoy new experiences and new places. It’s fun to push him in the stroller or carry him in the carrier and watch him take it all in.

He’s a pretty loud guy when he’s comfortable at home. He yells a lot and screeches (though that has diminished, thankfully). He’s making sounds that sound much more like words lately. He also likes to make fart noises with his mouth. (“Blow raspberries” is the nice way to say that, huh?)

Dislikes: Having the sun directly in his eyes, being put down for a nap too early, waiting for us to make a bottle when he’s hungry, getting knocked over by Oscar while trying to sit up. That’s really all there is!

Firsts: Film festival (ha!), solid foods, swinging at the park, baseball game with friends, swimming in a pool, swimming in a lake, and first overnight away from us.


Milestones: TEETH! Two little teeth. One popped through and the second popped out about two days later. Finally rolling both ways. Mostly sitting up without assistance. He topples over often, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s start to trying to get up on his knees, but so far just lots of floor swimming.

Milo’s adoption was also finalized shortly before his 7-month birthday! I’m still trying to wrap my head around all that his adoption finalization means to us. I want to right about it. Soon!

Stats (at his 6-month appointment):
Weight — 21 lbs 6 oz (94th percentile)
Length — 29 in (98th percentile)
Head — 44.5 cm (68th percentile)

social media and my blog: it’s complicated

patterned cactus by maria hilas louie for minted

Patterned Cactus by Maria Hilas Louie

My relationship status with social media and my blog has changed from “in a serious relationship” to “it’s complicated.” I think.

I learned the idea of keeping what brings me joy from The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, and it hasn’t left my mind. I’ve started considering it in terms of all “things” in my life… not just objects in my home. I know my theory is flawed. I know I can’t only do, see, read, watch, eat, and use things that bring me joy. There’s a lot of necessary but mundane parts of my days that I can’t just give up on. But social media — or aspects of social media — has stopped bringing me joy. 

I have thoroughly enjoyed the times I turn off and disconnect while we’ve been on little trips or I just needed a weekend to unwind. I unintentionally stopped reading blogs in Feedly — a blog reader where I receives updates from 400 blogs — on our last trip. When I realized, there were definitely a few I wanted to check in on. I evaluated those, and I realized they were blogs of people who write in a raw, stream-of-conciousness, these-are-stories-from-my-life sort of way. Not posts like 5 Uses for Baby Wipes or How to Style a Chambray Shirt. There is nothing wrong with these, of course. They’re just not my primary interest right now.

My Twitter feed has become a stream of advertisements and sponsored posts and promoted posts. My Instagram has become filled with loop giveaways and highly-styled shots. My Facebook has become an advertising platform for small businesses products I can’t usually afford.

So, in an effort to simplify and clear my mind and fill myself with joyful, uplifting things, I’m attempting to step back. Unfollowing people and businesses that just don’t do it anymore. Bookmarking a handful of blogs to check on once in a while. Getting excited about Snapchat, which is silly but possibly one of the social media platforms I’m enjoying the most. Writing here only when I really feel compelled to share a genuine glimpse into our lives and what I’m being taught. 

While not being enveloped in the time suck that is my social media usage, you’ll find me rediscovering a love for reading and devouring books. And getting excited again about one of my favorite (expensive) hobbies: film photography. I’ll be loving and enjoying my Milo and Dan. I’ll be trying to develop more in-person relationships with those we’ve grown to love in Indianapolis. You’ll find me working more hours interviewing and assessing potential foster and adoptive parents while sneaking work time in during Milo’s naps. I’ll be attempting to exercise and cook healthy meals which I’ve learned does, unfortunately, take a good amount of time. I’ll be trying my best to keep up with She Reads Truth. Oh, and you’ll find me on Snapchat as littlethingsbig. I’m seriously really into that lately.

This is where I am right now, and it may change. But it feels like a good choice right now. 

the Target woman I envied

I pull into the Target parking lot, already sweating. I get out, picking up my Ergo carrier and strapping it around my waist. I unbuckle Milo from him car seat and heave him out of the car, flat against my chest. I strain to latch the carrier. It’s uncomfortable already, but he’s still a little too small to sit up in the cart, and his car seat is too heavy to lug around.

There’s a Cartwheel deal for an extra 20% off clearance clothes, so I push our cart to the women’s section. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Maybe another maxi dress. To replace the ones I cleared from my closet when tidying up because they don’t bring me joy. This one will probably have the same fate… Hanging there, collecting dust, pulled out and put on once in a while, but thrown on the floor because it makes my hips look too wide.

As we wander, we pass a full-length mirror. I see us. My hair is pulled back with a headband bought at a fair trade store in the Midwest but made by artisans in Nepal. My earrings are watermelon pink dangly leather teardrop-shaped earrings. My tank top is made in the United States through fair labor practices. My sweet Milo is strapped to my chest in a carrier, quietly gnawing on whatever his mouth will reach. Finally, I have become the Target woman I envied. Headband, earrings, curly-haired baby in a carrier and all.

I thought it would bring me more happiness than it has. My eyes look tired, and my eyeliner is rubbed out of place from sweat and that nap I tried to take earlier today. I don’t like my baggy eyes. My headband was chosen because I woke up and gave a two-minute effort to doing my hair. There’s parts of it growing back after brain surgery, and that short part gets wavy in the humidity. I don’t like my frizzy hair. My earrings are cute. Very cute. But they were bought in a fit of “all the trendy women I follow on Instagram own these, so I should, too.” 

Milo is undeniably cute. I am crazy about him, and I think he might be one of the “easiest” babies I’ve known. But even with his ease, I get frustrated that he won’t sleep on command. I get frustrated that he screeches when I finally sit down to read my new book. I thought being a mama would meet all my needs. But it has reminded me of my selfishness while giving me this sweet little being with near-constant needs of his own. 

So, while I look the part I thought would make me one billion times happier than I was six months ago, it hasn’t. And I’m reminded again — my mind seems to require these frequent reminders — God is the only answer forever and ever. 


open adoption and trust

Milo’s birth mom wouldn’t mind you telling me this. She’d say the same thing. Her major hang-up with adoption was a fear that adoptive parents would take her baby boy and never be seen or heard of again. Most of her questions the first time we talked with her were veiled pleas for reassurance. And we understood this and respected it. She wanted to know that she could trust us.

In our adoption, and most adoptions, I assume, there is no thing that legally binds us to communicating with her. Parents have and will turn on the charm, accept the placement of a baby or toddler or child, and go off the radar. Our agency contract stipulates letters and photos at pre-determined intervals. Milo’s birth mom wanted an open adoption that includes regular contact and visits, and we welcomed this gladly. 

From our first communication, we’ve been building mutual trust. She trusts us to care well for Milo, to love him, and to remain committed to him no matter what life brings. She trusts us to communicate with her, to involve her, and to allow her to be a regular part of his life. We trust her to remain in contact, to stand by her commitment to adoption, and to be honest with us about her journey in life.

To build trust, we’ve worked to exceed the commitments we’ve made to her. We’ve flung wide the doors of communication, even though yes, it is strange to be so open with a near-stranger so early on.

Some snippets of how this has worked for us:
+ We gave her our full names and our phone number and our address early on.

+ While waiting for clearance to travel home, we regularly updated Milo’s birth mom about what we were hearing. We communicated that we wanted to see her again before we flew home, and we followed through with that. It meant waiting an extra day to go home, and it was worth it.

+ We gave her space to process and grieve, but we told her we were open to more contact and more pictures and more whatever she wanted whenever she wanted.

+ We’ve exceeded the communication we agreed to in our agency contract by sending her regular mail for holidays and her birthday. We text message nearly every day!

+ We’ve been upfront with her about the progress we’ve seen toward Theo and Elliot coming home. We’ve communicated how this transition will be hard and how we will be stretched to meet the needs of each of our boys. But we’ve communicated how much we love and are committed to Milo.

+ We have updated her about Milo’s health. I text her after his check-ups with his weight, height, and any concerns the doctor had. We have also involved her in decisions we have made for Milo’s health. He may require surgery later for a couple issues, and we’ve talked those through with his birth mom.

She truly entrusted him to us, and we love seeing the ways that trust has grown. 


sponsored: Huggies #UltraHug + Safe Families

This summer, we expect to frequent a couple of our favorite parks and the Y pool with Milo. But it won’t be the first time for us to take a child to any of those places, because we’ve been to all our favorites with the Safe Families kids we have hosted.


When we moved to Indianapolis two years ago, we immediately became approved by Safe Families to be a host family.
Though we love adoption and feel it is a great option in some situations, we also want to be a family that supports initiatives that keep families of origin intact. Safe Families, providing temporarily housing for children whose parents are in crisis and are receiving services, is that sort of program.

Two summers ago, I drove to the Safe Families office in Indianapolis with a never-used car seat in the back of my car. I met Mr. M, a spirited, inquisitive 2-year-old. He said a tearful goodbye-for-now to his mama and got in my car. Because Dan was still on vacation before starting his new job, the three of us spent two full weeks exploring our new city. Neighborhood splash pad, Holliday Park, 100 Acres, and watering and rewatering the plants on our porch.


M was the first of six kids we have hosted through Safe Families. Six kids who have benefited from the services Safe Families provided to their parents during a time of uncertainty and need. Because of the services Safe Families offers, biological families can weather hard times, stay together, and set out to explore Indianapolis as a family again this summer. 

This summer, Huggies is graciously awarding $2,000 to 10 nominated community projects. Suggestions for projects include parks, playgrounds, beaches, and rec-centers. I love several of these types of projects in our city, but Safe Families in Indianapolis is the community initiative dearest to my heart and the very reason I first experienced all that summer in our city has to offer.

Would you like to nominate your own favorite community project? From now until June 25th, Huggies will be accepting all selfies of you + your baby with the hashtag #UltraHug and a description of your nominated community project. The pictures are featured in a collage on the campaign landing page. On July 6th, voting will begin to narrow down the 20 finalists to 10 winners who will win a $2,000 grant from Huggies for their nominated community initiative.

To enter the #UltraHug contest: Take a selfie of you and your baby and upload that selfie to Twitter or Instagram. Make sure to use the hashtag #UltraHug. Include a text nomination (approximately 100 – 120 characters) with the name and/or identifying description of a community project in the US, which you would like to nominate. Make sure the community project is something near and dear to your heart.

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Milo: months 4 + 5

The biggest change in the past two months is that this boy is much more active! He’s always kicking and flapping his arms and trying to grab things. He has started rolling… He first did it while swaddled and ended up face down and angry in his crib. We’ve since changed to a Swaddle Up 50/50, so we can transition to his arms being out. His little “flappers” seem to keep him from rolling quite as much. He frequently gets his legs stuck between the crib rails. He bats his arms around while we feed him bottles or scratches at the arm of the chair.

He has quiet moments, too, when he “talks” to the toys on his playmat and jumperoo. He seems to read books along with us, too. He loves being cradled and having conversations. I’m pretty certain he becomes more fun and even cuter each month. That’s gotta stop sometime right… Maybe when he’s two? :)

 Sleeps: We’re still using a lot of the principles found in Baby Whisperer and finally bought a copy after renewing the library’s a maximum number of times. (It’s really Babywise, without the cry-it-out stuff.) Milo has now dropped to two longer naps — one in the morning and one in the afternoon — and one short nap in the evening. We tried everything to get Milo to nap longer than 45 minutes again, and he is! What worked? Swaddling both arms! Apparently little bubs was coming out of the sleep cycle enough to startle himself awake with one arm swaddled out. He now naps between 1.5 to two hours or longer for the first two naps.

Though he consistently slept through the night from about two months old to four months old, he’s waking once a night again. (Though It’s possible we’ve been letting him nap too much during the day or he’s just hungry or it’s just a weird baby thing. Talking to other moms, I know we’ve got it good, so we’re putting on a smile for those new middle-of-the-night wake ups. 

Eats: We’ve transitioned from four ounces every three hours to five ounces every 3.5 to four hours. We give him a six ounce bottle at bedtime and for his “dream feed” before we go to bed to stock him up for the night, and he tolerates those well. During the day, he spits up a fair amount — possibly reflux — and we’ve found burping him in the middle of the bottle and sitting him up in his mamaRoo for a while after helps quite a bit.

We have received donated breast milk from three friends, and one friend is regularly pumping and donating frozen milk for us. This has helped with the spitting up, too! We usually do about half breast milk and half formula in Milo’s bottles. (This sweet friend recently told me she prays for us and our family when she’s pumping for Milo. We have such a sweet community here!)

We’ve gone back and forth on when to start solid food, wondering if it will help him sleep through the night again. Right now, we’re going to focus on feeding him bottles at regular intervals throughout the day. We’ll probably wait until six months for solids!   Likes: Most everything! He loves to be where the action is, so we frequently wear him or sit him in the Bumbo in the kitchen or dining room. He loves watching us and Oscar walk around. (See the cutest video in the world below!) He loves laying on the floor with us crouched above him talking to him. He still really likes the mamaRoo and playmat. He’s enjoying the jumperoo more, and he likes to babble at the little plastic bear on the front of it. He likes reading books, and I truly think Go, Dog! Go is his favorite. He likes taking baths and doesn’t mind his head being wet at all.

A video posted by Natalie (@natalie_e_s) on

Dislikes: We most recently discovered that he hates the loud blast of sound from the motion-sensored, super strong hand dryers in public places. We stopped at a gas station on our way home from Chicago, and Dan took him into the men’s room to change him. I heard Milo scream-cry both times someone used the hand dryer. Sorry, men in the gas station bathroom.

He’s still not a fan of tummy time, but it’s improving. He also seems to get frustrated when he can’t get something (like a big ball) into his mouth the chew on. He’s getting a lot better in the car, and getting his face wiped off doesn’t seem to bother him anymore.

Firsts: Skype with big brothers (!!), trip to the farmers’ market, lonnnnngggg road trip (to NYC), subway ride, boat ride

 Milestones: Much more steady when sitting with assistance, much more core strength, seeing way further (smiled at people smiling at him from across a restaurant!), trying to hold his bottle, arching his back, rolling from his back to his front all… the… time… and then crying until we flipping him over and doing it all over again

Stats at 4-month appointment:
Weight – 17 lbs 11 oz (93%)
Length – 26.25″ (90%)
Head – 42.5 cm (60%)
If you look at his 2-month stats, it’s apparent the previous nurse miscalculated. The ped told us not to worry about the seemingly shrinking head!

Disclosure: Affiliate links used, because I really like the products I mentioned!

reclaiming my days

At the recommendation of a friend, I recently started listening to a podcast called The Longest Shortest Time. It’s about parenthood, and the name really drew me in. Some days as a mostly-stay-at-home mom of an infant are really, really long, though this stage seems to be going so quickly. 

Our international adoption feels like it’s on the brink of something big. Yet each day, we wake up and there is no email or announcement or news that indicates our wait is over. So, add in the extra layer of being a waiting adoptive mama to two boys I’ve known of for more than three years, and there’s a potential for really long, dissatisfying days. 

A day in my life before deciding a change was needed:
Wake to baby crying earlier than I want to get out of bed. Feel sad that my days of sleeping in are long gone. Haul baby out of bed and change his diaper. Feed him. Lay down on the couch to eat a huge bowl of cereal while he plays happily.

Put him down for a nap. Force self to take a shower. Watch Ellen  with wet hair while sitting in a robe. Get dressed. Watch The Price Is Right.

Get baby up. Lay next to baby on the floor and read books. Check phone often for emails about international adoption.

And, basically, repeat all day.I decided I needed to reclaim my days. Because guys, if I can’t find joy in the mundane and even disappointments with one child, how am I gonna do it with three?

Nothing monumental has changed, but I’ve found a little more routine and structure. I’ve been happy to see it makes a difference!

A reclaimed day:
Wake to baby talking in bed. Greet him, smile at him, make him laugh. Dress him in a cute outfit and feed him. Put him in his favorite spot: the playmat. Do quiet time and journaling while eating breakfast.

Cuddle him, talk to him, rub his back. Put him down for nap. Take a shower, get dressed, and put in a load of laundry. Answer emails or write a blog post. Read a book.

Get baby up from nap with smile on my face. Put my phone in a basket on the kitchen table. Interact with him, take him on errands, take him on walks.

Accept that this is my day. Deeply enjoy the little things: mail from a friend, Mindy Kaling on Ellen, kind comments from a stranger at Target.

Stop being lazy and get stuff done. Leave the house in a more arranged state than it was when husband left for work. Great him with a smile, and enjoy the heck out of an evening with my husband and son.

After I wake up, my day can grow in disappointment and weariness, or it can grow in joy and contentment. I’m gunning for joy and contentment and gratitude over here these days.

seeing something that isn’t tangible

I loaded Milo into the car for an early evening attempt to preoccupy us both before bedtime after a long, fussy day. As I turned from one street onto another, I looked into the rearview mirror to see the other mirror positioned facing Milo in his car seat.

He had one fist raised — always his left fist — and he was studying it. I saw him watch the sunlight from the low sun cover his arm, then just his fist, then just a tiny part of his fist. It flickered, and it was gone. He squeezed his eyebrows together and slowly lowered his arm.

I think his little mind was trying to understand how he could see something that wasn’t tangible. My mind is also trying to understand how I can see something that isn’t tangible. But it is understanding. I am seeing that which isn’t tangible.

I am seeing growth within myself as I look back the past five years of singleness, impatience, marriage, adoption, impatience, and motherhood. I am seeing understanding and deep, deep care in my husband’s affirmations as I express my fears and doubts.

I am seeing a general sense of I’m-familiar-with-you-and-comfortable-with-you in the way Milo settles into our arms and routines. I am seeing trust in the way a friend shares her struggles and mistakes with me.

I am seeing more waiting in my future, but I am also seeing a God who has my best interests in mind. I’m seeing that He loves me and wants my best and wants what’s best for me. I am seeing, at least for today, that I trust Him.

I can see the light. I watch it stream in the upstairs bathroom window at just the right time of the evening. I watch it dance in a leaf-like pattern on the white-tiled kitchen floor.

And I can see the Light. I can’t touch the Light, but I can feel the Light. And I’m happy to be in the Light.