Note: The new edition of The Rhythm of the Home is now up and running!
One month ago yesterday, I landed in this state, and I’ve been looking for “normal” ever since. “Normal” has been pretty scarce this summer. First, I was not feeling normal because I was growing a baby inside. I had a healthy, easy pregnancy, but nonetheless, I felt slow and awkward and not like myself. Then in late May, we got the news that my husband had been hired as a professor in a distant place. From that moment on, the rest of the summer was colored with the hue of nostalgia. During each activity and at each get-together, I was thinking that it could be the last time. The last trip to the museum. The last time at our library. The last visit to the park with special friends. And when I wasn’t practically dripping with the sentimentality of such a big move, I was checking off my to-do lists and mentally packing.
Next, Charlotte came to be with us. Anyone who has welcomed a new baby knows that normal goes straight down the drain. Everything from going to bed to preparing a peanut butter sandwich becomes just a bit (or a whole lot) more complicated.
Well, the move has happened. Yesterday marked one month since we arrived in our new state, our new town. That’s one month of shopping in a new grocery store, listening to unfamiliar voices on the radio, and using a new Post Office. There is a sense of normal returning as we discover remnants of a familiar routine. We are returning to steady bedtimes and early mornings. There are meals to prepare, dishes to clean, and laundry to wash, dry, & put away. But everything feels different as if the pieces of our days have been twisted and tossed about like kids on a carnival ride.
New things are finding their way into our family’s routine. We now have homework to do and a lunch to pack for a first grader who goes to school all day. Preschool has begun, leaving Mama home some mornings with only a tiny baby. The little ones and I have a music class to attend each week. How fun! We are visiting a church that might become ours eventually. Could normal actually be on its way? For now, I’m hanging on tight to the things that are certain:
:: God has a plan for our family. We can trust Him to guide us.
:: He loves us as much as ever.
:: The sun will rise each morning.
:: Children still need love, discipline, and fun!
:: Nursing a baby is warm, restful, and wholesome.
:: Libraries bring me joy (so I went there yesterday).
:: I can still talk to my mom every day, and I usually do (sometimes twice).
:: The love of a husband makes the world feel safe and steady.
:: The future is just as big and open as ever–full of hope and promise, making today prime for daydreams.
I’m grateful for the things I can count on.
(This morning’s sunrise. Stunning.)