Who Gets the Oxygen Mask First?

Disclosure:  My blog posts will not always be fluffy and full of the "hey-life-is-always-grand-and-easy" nonsense.  Because, y'all, we all know that life is HARD.  However, my posts will contain the things that the Lord is teaching me about life by living life...

I'm tired, y'all.  Like Hulk-falls-asleep-on-bear-at-the-foot-of-the-stairs tired.

Aren't we all?

Is it because I'm 33? Maybe  Is it because I have three little, active, rowdy boys? Probably  Is it because I'm secretly a scattered OCD ball of confusion...wanting a clean, orderly house but bouncing from one chore to the next without completing anything?  Very likely  {I cannot stand for my house to be out of order...it drives me nuts.  But, I'm also self-diagnosed ADD.  These two things DO NOT GO TOGETHER people!}

Life happens.  Kids wear 36 outfits a day and throw them ALL into the laundry hamper. By the time you reach it, Mt. Rushmore stares you in the face with no indication of what is really dirty and what was worn for five minutes before residing at its new residence amongst the filth.

Life happens.  Your kids eat like it is their last meal.  And, all of the blasted time!  Really, you JUST ate five minutes ago?!  At the table, they laugh and giggle with one another one day.  The next, they glare and grumble across the wood.  They ALWAYS make and leave messes.  In the middle of trying to accomplish one of your own daily chores (see above), you remind them to love each other and clean those messes they just made.  Crumbs scatter the table and the CARPETED dining area.  It's CARPETED, people.  The dining area in our house has carpet.  I have three boys.  It makes no sense.  The math teacher in me is beckoning to come out...here is a little equation:

Three boys+food+carpet = train wreck  

And, I'm dumb and bought a light colored rug to protect the rented beige threads on the floor.  Spaghetti and too-much-food-coloring cereal have slowly turned the color of that rug to rainbow.  Awesome.

Life happens.  You want to be healthy.  Get enough rest.  Sleep those eight hours a day and hope they are solid.  Get a least 30 minutes of exercise in a day.  Doing so requires getting up at 5 AM.  Drink eight glasses of water.  Fix a healthy breakfast...did I say "too-much-food-coloring cereal" earlier?....

Life happens.  Your minivan might as well have a cab sticker slapped on the side and a super cool taxi light crowning the top.  For your children need to be run to and fro.  To and fro.  To and fro.  All the time.  To and fro.  You want them to be involved and social.  Might as well make a career out of burning up the roads!

Life happens.  You homeschool your boys.  Unknown territory to navigate.  New routines to form.  Balancing act to do.  Lessons to prepare.  Trips to plan.  Units to create.

Life happens.  All of it is good.   Maybe not the 36 clothes changes and the light colored rug, but the rest of it is all good.

It is ok to be busy and to have a full schedule.  I'm so thrilled with how our family has settled in to Las Vegas.  We definitely do not sit at home twiddling our thumbs wishing that we had never moved here because we are lonely.  No, no...the Lord has provided friends y'all.  We have been here two and a half months and meaningful friendships have been formed.  I love that our schedule includes lots of time with friends, playdates, and launch team meetings.  We have people who have taken us in like we are family.  It.feels.good.

I've always said that we must apply the airline principle to our own lives...

~Put your oxygen mask on before you put on someone else's~  

In other words, taking care of yourself will help you take better care of the person next to you.  The people you love.  Your peeps.

We must take care of ourselves so that we can provide the love, time, and attention to those around us.

confession central:  I have neglected such self care as of late.

The Lord so preciously reminded me of this principle a few days ago.

See, our district overseers in ministry are an amazing couple.  Generous.  Selfless.  Hospitable.  Caring in every sense of the word. Randy and Annette Sapp are the epitome of the Hands and Feet of Jesus.  Every Wednesday, Annette along with her just.as.fabulous.friend, Kathia, cook up a meal that causes my taste buds to tingle even before the first bite.  You read about them here.  This past week, they sent me home with a gift that had far more significance than what filled those bottles and boxes.

These beautiful women of God had been stirred by the Lord on my behalf.  They didn't know if it was my birthday, anniversary, or other special date.  But they knew that this fabulous gift was for me.  See, my boxes were filled to the brim with pampering for me (mostly, and some much NEEDED household items).  Body washes, perfumes, lotions, shampoos, and conditioners to name a few.  To name a few.  Guys, I came home with two boxes and two bags FULL of stuff.  And chocolates.  Yes.  Caramels.  Pecan Clusters.  Coconut covered in dark chocolate.  I need a moment of silence.

The significance, that they knew not of, was that I am tired and needed a reminder to take care of me.
The Lord knows me, for I am His own...

"I am the Good Shepherd; and I know and recognize My own, and My own know and recognize Me"  John 10:14

My life has taken on a whole new role.  Full speed, pedal to the metal, wind blown hair fast.  In a matter of months I've become a homeschooling, church planting pastors wife.

Please do not misunderstand.  

There is NO complaint about that what-so-ever.  It's just much more full throttle than what I've been used to and unknown territory.  Although I am adjusting, I am still tired.  Y'all are too.  Wherever you are in life, you are tired.

Student with seemingly unending hours before getting that diploma.
Single and desiring/searching/praying for your lifelong helpmate.
Mom of a newborn.  
Balancing a career and personal life.    
Aging parents needing you to return the care they gave you.
And, everywhere in between.  I hear you.

If you are not tired, can you please enlighten the rest of us about your secrets to said untiredness.    

With my gift of pampering products, my Lord spoke volumes to me.
To carve out time for myself and rest.
Paint my toenails.
Enjoy an afternoon on the couch with coffee and a good book.
Step over that Spiderman airplane on the staircase and not cringe that it.is.still.there.
Go to dinner with JUST the girls.
 Call my family and friends back home even if it means locking myself in the bathroom for a peaceful conversation.
Go on a long lost date with my husband where we laugh, hold hands, and be all romantical.  {And, can I get another amen here?...we've had several friends as of late offer to watch the boys for us so that we can go on a date.  Yes!  Insert here cartwheels, backflips, jumps for joy, and cheers from the parents!  Score!}  

I just love when the Lord delivers a word a JUST the RIGHT time!  A scripture found its home on the front of the box that was wrapped in PINK POLKA DOTS.  Oh the details for girlyness and pampering.  So incredibly refreshing, the words leapt straight to my heart:

"So do not fear, for I am with you;

do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with My

righteous right hand." ~Isaiah 41:10

Isn't that quite the promise for those of us who are tired?  STRENGTH from the Lord.  A promise that He is with you.  A promise that He is holding you up.  Oh, the imagery of the exhausted being held up by God.  Such sweetness from our Father.  He doesn't say that He will necessarily take it away.  Whatever "it" is.  He says that He will give you the strength and help that you need to stand through it.  

As I look around my living room this early morning while everyone else is still in their cocoons of slumber, and I see the shoes scattered, the half folded laundry, and the plastic toys decorating the scene, I will not fear my to-do list of the here and now.  I will grab some me time.  I will put on my oxygen mask first.  I will call on the name of my Father in Heaven to uphold me and give me strength.  Then, and only then, can I be better able to love on those around me.  

      

Learning to Celebrate...in More Ways Than One

No matter what, we celebrate...

Garrison turned 7 after being here for just a couple of weeks.  He reminded me at dinner one night that we had not talked about what kind of birthday he wanted.  Oops.  

Sorry other Mamas out there, I maintain that "Mom of the Year" title.  You know that having your child remind you that you need to discuss plans for his birthday is a prerequisite for said title.

So, I was all ears as he dreamed about a Minecraft birthday.  Creepers, Stevies, green stone, red stone...confession: I.Dont.Get.It.  I'm lost like a ball in high weeds when I play the virtual Legos with him.  A train wreck of sorts.  Whatever man, I reluctantly happily obliged in his quest to have Minecraft done for his day.  

With my stellar track record, you would be shocked to know that I waited until the DAY BEFORE his birthday to buy the needed supplies.  Yep, there it is again.  Awesome-ness at its finest y'all.  Mommies of Minecrafters, listen closely to what I'm about to say.  They do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, carry Minecraft party supplies ANYWHERE.  I learned the hard way.  Now you know.  Buy them from Amazon.  Six months ahead of party date.    

As I drove all over my neck of the woods in the its-all-new-to-me and massive Las Vegas, I melted under not only the outrageous heat of this city but also the pressure to make my child's first birthday away from home a success.

For years, I have decorated the house the night before each boys' birthday so that they would wake up to a magical surprise the next morning.  I was determined on my jaunt to find balloons and decorations that would work for the Minecraft theme and have them adorn our abode for the next day.  You know, since my bubble was busted for actual Minecraft party supplies.  My last ditch effort boiled down to the color scheme.  Blues, greens, and browns were the colors of choice for Minecraft galore.      

AND, I had to bake his Creeper cake.  Yep, Betty got busy at 9:00 whipping up the just-right green buttercream icing.  It is still 2,000 degrees at 9:00 pm here in the desert.  Buttercream icing doesn't like this very much.  Alas, I pressed on.  And, it turned out really cute and yumm-o!  Move on over Martha.

Crepe paper streamers found their new home twisting and turning across the hollows of the living room.  Helium balloons floated in the air while being gently anchored to lamp posts.  Other balloons were quietly scattered all over the floor of a sleeping six year old's room.  For the next evening when he laid those blonde locks on his pillow, he would be the perfect age of seven.  Streamers hung with great anticipation for his sleepy eyes to wake in the morning and open his door to their happy threshold.  

Decorations hung with care.  Freshly iced cake tucked away in the fridge.  A mommy's heart full for the love of her first born and celebrating him.

The next morning, I was met with an excited boy, too eager to sleep another wink, beckoning me to get out of bed.  Creeper pancakes were prepared and scarfed away.  An overpriced foam Minecraft pick axe was gifted to the birthday boy from his brothers.  Gift wrap flew as he smiled seeing that perfectly chosen present.

Considering how much he enjoyed climbing rocks on our cross-country excursion, we found a rock climbing center and signed him up for a couple hours.  He harnessed up and got lots of attention from his instructor.  And, without fail, he loved it!  I enjoyed watching him be brave and stretching himself to get higher each time.  I did not, however, enjoy watching all of the other incredibly fit people climbing.  Instead, I day dreamed about eating cake and ice cream after dinner.  I'm, unfortunately, one to err on the side of cake.  Sorry toned body and awesome muscles.  You obviously will never inhabit the body of Ashley Mosley.  Cheers.

G's instructor told us about a climbing camp and a Groupon for it.  Umm, excuse me, did you say "Groupon"?  Because, if you did, I slam on the brakes for those.  Sure enough, we snagged a steal of a deal on a week long climbing camp for GL.  Happy birthday buddy!  Glad your momma plans in a advance for your gifts too.  High five.

We wrapped the day up with frozen pizza (any other fans of frozen pizzas on sale?  Holla), cake and ice cream, and Skyping with the fam!

GL opened his gift from all the grandparents and Aunt Amanda.  Yep, we've fallen into the my-seven-year-old-has-an-iPad2-and-we-share-a-first-gen-dinosaur trap.  Brian and I went back and forth on whether or not to let him have this expensive piece of technology that essentially could drain every brain cell he ever had if we weren't careful.  {I'm pretty sure that GL would stay glued to it FOREVER if we did not monitor his time.  Because I'm pretty convinced that I have ADD, we have to monitor his time with the use of tickets.  The boys each get 14 tickets a week.  Each is worth 30 minutes of screen time.  You watch a two hour movie, you hand over four tickets.  You get tickets on Saturday night.  If you run out of them on Tuesday, too bad, so sad.}  We ultimately decided that this would be great for the boys to use with homeschooling, Face timing family, and for parental stealing.  Yep, just said that.  It is VERY beneficial for homeschooling research.  Ahem

So, once he opened that present, he could no longer remember his name, or that anyone was even talking to him on Skype.  I'm pretty sure he woke up at 3:00 the next morning fully dressed for the day and ready to play on a gift that I, still to this day, have never received.  Dude, when I was seven, I got Barbies.  Or My Little Pony.  Or crayons and a coloring book.

Exactly 7 years old at 8:08 PM...I obviously wanted this picture more desperately than he did. :)

A week and half after G's day was the Fourth of July.  We celebrated by organizing more rooms, boiling hot dogs on the stove (don't judge, we are grill-less, much to our dismay... there is nothing better than a grilled hotdog.  Charred.  Yum! ), and eventually heading out to watch fireworks with new friends.  Our super awesome district Overseers are Randy and Annette Sapp.  They were so kind to invite us to their son's community park to enjoy fireworks.

For my peeps back in Chattanooga, it sweetly reminded me of Pops in the Park.  This community is higher in elevation, and we got to see fireworks paint the sky all over the Las Vegas Valley.

It was a surreal moment as we sat there looking at the neon lights of the Strip shrouded by glistening sparkles of fireworks.  And, to top it all off, rain was moving in.  Complete with lightning.  And my inner-meterologist shrieked with glee.  It.was.beautiful.  The threat of rain a sprinkle sent some rushing for cover.  But, our skin soaked in those delightful five seconds of precipitation.

So, we survived our first major celebrations sans family and friends back home.  Although we missed everyone terribly, we felt love from new friends and embraced time together as a family of five.

These ladies right here!  They have blessed our hearts with hugs and words of encouragement, and  our bellies with some super yummy, knee slap'n, finger lick'n southern fare!

The day-to-day is also a place that we are having to learn to celebrate.  Have you ever struggled to find the celebration in the day-to-day?  Did you ever feel like you had to dig deep to see something worth smiling over?  I would like to report that everything has been dreamy.  That we have a full launch team formed, that we have raised all of our funds, that we have found a full time job with benefits, that we have secured the perfect facility to house our church.  Nope.  None of that.

However, we celebrate the day-to-day:

Brian has a job!  Two hundred applications later, he has a job.  The Lord provided.  It is a part time job that we are extremely grateful for.  And we know that the Lord can make much out of a little.  Loaves and fishes, anyone?

We have some commitments for our launch team!  Some precious people are coming alongside us to get this thing off the ground.  We are still believing that the Lord will send the others who are called to help.  And that they will be gifted in areas that we are not!

Funds are still coming in!  Individuals, churches, and businesses have seen the call that the Lord has for The Springs.  Those financial gifts are already being put into action to love on people and getting the ball rolling.

I still have insurance coverage from my teaching job in Tennessee until the end of August!  Praise the Lord!  If my crazy children continue to jump off of the stairs and the back of the couch and break a bone, we are covered for another month!  Whoop whoop!

No church home yet, but believing that God will provide the perfect location, for the perfect price, at the perfect time!  He's proven Himself before.  He will not leave us now.

Even though things are not going as smoothly as we would like for them to go, we know that He holds our day-to-day.  He grows and stretches us.  He allows us the chance to celebrate no matter what!  

Praise the Lord! Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens! Praise him for his mighty deeds; praise him according to his excellent greatness! Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp! Praise him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe! Praise him with sounding cymbals; praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

~Psalm 150:1-6

Making a House Our Home Part 2

When we pulled into our driveway three weeks ago, the mile high grass called out with, “Hey, it’s obvious no one lives here” screams from our front, ahem, "lawn".  Two things are necessary to note here: 

1) Yes, we do have grass.  A good amount of it, actually.  With any grass in the desert, comes a sprinkler system.  We are some high class folks now, I tell ya.  High.class.  We've never had a sprinkler system before.  Fancy.  With that, there is now hope that I will not have the grass fried to a crisp by August.  

2) We needed a new lawn mower.  Assuming that we would have rocks and dirt to maintain once moved, our lawnmowers got new homes before we left Tennessee.  So, Brian took himself right on down to Ace Hardware and picked up this machine full of whopping horse power and torque…

Oh, yeah, baby...seeing it in full throttle is mucho fun!  Brian doesn't think that is funny.

He was rather, um, shall I say, ecstatic about his new toy.  He was also a little too eager to start training Garrison on its maneuverability.  GL happily gave that mower a test run across our backyard.  The entertainment value of this contraption will surely wear out in a week.  I’ll give it two.

I felt like I was going to need two weeks to complete the gargantuan task of traveling laundry.  Man, it stunk. Musty.  Sweaty.  Chlorine filled.  I managed to get it washed and folded in a few days.  Unfortunately, it is still not all put away and decorates the hallway and bedrooms like Kirkland's never could!

While we are on the subject of smells, let’s take a moment to discuss Keen feet, shall we?  I love Keens for all my boys.  The big one included.  They are versatile.  They go in water, mud, you name it.  They are perfect for little boy adventures.  BUT, my nose hairs synge when they take those bad boys off.  I’ve dubbed that stank as “Keen Feet.”  I’ll recommend these shoes till the cows come home (Warner’s were hand-me-downs from Brody, who got them from his cousin, Chase...so they last FOREVER), but proceed with caution…and a clothes pin for your nose.

Can we be real here?  I mean, really real?  If not, do not look any further.  The following pictures of chaos may be just too much to contend with...

This is AFTER I have spent HOURS in this room!  What is wrong with me?!  I need therapy.  On a happy note, Brian finally found the bunk bed hardware in the LAST box that he opened in the garage.  Forget the instructions...we battled it out and figured out how to put that bad boy back together.  No worries, it hasn't fallen yet.  

The boys shoes are like their clothes, scattered all over the upstairs.  Our here and now focus has been to get the downstairs family living areas in order...the temperature is MUCH cooler down there.  Finding a kitchen table and a rug to put on top of the carpeted dining area are majors on our list.  Have you seen my piglets children eat?  If so, you know the need for a rug over rented carpet.  We galavanted around town to meet the desires of my very frugal heart, in which we came home with neither.  

Also in the I’m-not-spending-a-lot-of-money search was a patio dining set.  Every morning and evening has been spent out there in the shade with a perfect breeze.  Our beach chairs are standing in as substitute chaise lounges and the boys find much novelty eating their breakfast picnic style.  I imagine that school lessons will be mastered on that same patio.  Therefore, a good "bargain of all bargains" find is on my list.

Right now, my favorite room is the living room.  It is 90% finished.  Why do I have a feeling that the other 10% won't ever be accomplished?  Maybe because I have cleaned up toys, shoes, books, and other randomness for days that get scattered about because people live here.  S.O.S to all mamas out there that keep their living areas guest ready at all times.  Help a sister out.  How on earth do you do it?  

It no longer looks like this.  Throw in toys, clothes, shoes, snot rags...  Can you see them?
Oh, yes, yes, there you go!

This adorableness has a front and center spot on our bookcase...  

Gifted to me by my beyond precious friend, Anne, I love the little taste of Tennessee every time my eye catches its cuteness.  

In the middle of all of this moving in and making a house a home shenanigans, I am reminded of His peace.  Random phone calls, texts, and cards in the mail make the chaos sweeter.  They remind me of the love of people that surround us from afar and their belief in the Great Commission.  

Proverbs 27:17

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.

  

Making a House our New Home: Part 1

Pardon the delay in my "We made it!" post.  We've stood in a hurricane of brown, cardboard boxes and wrestled with getting post office keys.  Then, the internet debacle... I'll save you from all of that.  

Technology and I have a love/hate relationship.  It veers more on the side of loathe....

Yesterday afternoon, I took a time out for a little writing.  It's not easy to A) take a break when your house looks like a storage unit rather than a home, B) write when your children are awake~ "Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama, mama, MAMA!"  You get the idea, and C) take your I-am-an-accomplisher personality and peel it away from item A.  But, in my depths, I wanted to write.  I wanted to finish up about our amazing last day in Zion.  I did.  Among the pleas calling my name, and the skyscraper boxes lurking in the dining room, I took a break.  A long one.  Where is this post, you ask?  Somewhere lost in the middle of cyber space.  LOATHE technology.

So, that time peeled away seemed wasted.  Lost forever.  No story for my boys to read when they turn 18, and I hand over this blog ~ printed in a nice book form (hint, hint Brian) ~ to them to read of our life's adventures.  I'll rewrite it, but it will have to wait for another day.  For, I have much to say about our new latitude and longitude!...

When we pulled out of St. George, Utah on Monday morning, they boys were done.  Public Service Announcement for parents of littles: A week road trip is long enough in tight quarters.  They can't stand to be buckled in to those carseats one.more.time.  Not one.  They moan and groan if you breath the wrong way.  Nothing satisfies...not even Chick-fil-A.  Say what???!!!  

Being given the heads up that Las Vegas is absent of the "Christian Chicken," we made quick work of taking the exit heading north rather than the needed one southbound.  A scant five minutes out of the way is no big deal, but it really is no biggie when you are going to taste that original chicken sandwich for the LAST TIME.  Drama aside, there really is no Chick Fil A in Vegas?  ~Deep breaths~   Our ever so encouraging friends are gently pushing us to open one.  Sounds great!  But, we also have to plant a church.  I'm pretty sure that if we did both, we would be clawing our own eyeballs out, and maybe each others.  Not maybe, definitely.  

Brian and I did what any loving parent would do while their three children's whines and murmurs  encircled our ears, we happily ignored them as we sunk our teeth into deliciousness.

The landscape from St. George to Vegas is the harshest I had seen during our road trip.  Cruel stone mountains met a thirsty, parched ground.  Sun soaked and arid, it was hard to find life within my view.  

My mind swam with thoughts about our new place.  This was the yuckiest I felt the entire trip, and it was the closest to our new home that I had been.  Could we really do this?  How were we, southerners to the core, going adjust to life in the City-That-Never-Sleeps?  How could we go from Olivia Lane to Red Rose Ave?  How is God going to provide a regular income for us (as we homeschool and work toward launching a church in January?) ... My mind swam with the questions.

We rounded a curve, and with grand applause, that city spread out in front of us.  Sprawling, vast, and lively, it stretched as far as you could see.    

The roads led us to our new spot in the city, and the heat greeted us with a hot hello as we opened the van doors.  After 44 hours of drive time, the boys burled out like bulls in a china shop, eager to see their new digs.  

As I looked down my street, I noticed that all of the houses looked the same.  I'm sure that my eye is untrained.  Given time, I will find the originality in each architectural design.  Lone Mountain rises with might and stature just beyond our new address.          

Brian looked at countless houses with a realtor back in April.  All the ones we checked out online were fairly unsuitable for our little guys.  At the end of the last day's search, he was shown this place.  He had already found one that he loved, but it did not have enough space for our busy clan.  This one on Red Rose Ave had recently been updated with new carpet, linoleum, and fresh paint.  When I walked through the door, I could see why he felt like this was a good place to call home.  

Cozy throughout, the house welcomed me in.  I love cozy.  LOVE it.  I want my house to feel warm and inviting.  A place where you can lay on the couch with a blanket and enjoy a good read.  A kitchen that invites you to hang out and talk while preparing a home cooked meal.  Boys rooms that are lived in and signal imaginations in motion with superhero costumes and train tracks galore.      

Apparently, the back patio makes a perfect place to scatter the much missed toys that have been packed away for months.

Although piled-to-the-ceiling boxes filled these spaces, I could see the potential of warmth.  

Without delay, I began to tackle the kitchen.  A major downsize from what I am used to, I was perplexed where to put each necessity for efficiency's sake.  The boxes that were labeled "Kitchen" seemed a little ridiculous and a lot overwhelming.  This jungle of cardboard taunted me.  A bully of sorts.  And I was not about to let it defeat me.  Monday afternoon until Thursday morning, a great majority of my hours were spent in that space.  I worked those cabinets like puzzles, filling with my instruments of food prep.  Getting it just right.  Making it mine.  Feeling at home.

A little Southern charm does my heart good, y'all.

The gas man surely laughed at me as I asked him a million questions about this gas beast.
 I've never operated one and didn't really want to go down that road blindly and end up  homeless.

In my haste to get the cardboard decor out, I quickly ripped off packing tape and scurried through paper wrapped bowls and utensils.  Yet, the bold, black, inked words "Red Rose" jumped off the side of a box before I could touch it.  I did a double take and looked at the other writing on top ~ "Candles/Vases from under kitchen sink" ~ were clearly written by my friend, Jennifer.  She came over in February to help move my life into boxes.  She sat on my kitchen floor and tackled the cabinet under the sink.  "Red Rose" was not her writing.  It was written UNDER the tape that secured the flaps.  

I wondered for a minute.  Playing detective as to why these words were written here.  Many of our boxes were recycled.  Brought to us by friends who picked them up as they became available for a new home.  "Red Rose" was written on a box that was brought to us, randomly, as an act of kindness.  This box was given to us by God.  Like it is small sticky note, tucked into a junk drawer of chaos with the reminder of "I've got this" written on it.  

subtle.  

powerful.  

sweet.

We never even knew that Red Rose Ave existed until April, when Brian was brought to give it a look.  We struggled with deciding which house was best for us.  We prayed.  Felt peace.  Moved forward.  Until we saw the lease agreement.  Daunting, we second guessed our ability to be approved to rent this home.  Income is obviously a gargantuan factor on such an agreement...in which Brian had none and mine was ceasing in June.  Miraculously, we were approved.  Again, the Lord has shown us that this is the exact place and time that we are supposed to be.  We feel as though we are in the passenger seat, totally not in control.  It is a really, really good feeling.  More often than I'm proud to say, I let my circumstances dictate my feelings and actions.  I let what makes sense to my brain get in the way of believing that my God is bigger.  More capable.  Faithfully able.  

So, although we still do not have a regular income, we are doing all we know to do... all the while trusting God.  He has the perfect place for Brian to work until we launch the church in January.  He will take care of the health insurance that runs out at the end of the month.  He will provide the next month's rent.  He will provide food on our table.  He's proven Himself already.  He's still whispering those sweet "I've got this" reminders to our ears.  

‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,  Just to take him at His word;

Just to rest upon His promise,  Just to know, “Thus saith the Lord.”