I need glasses and the garbage trucks need new brakes

Here's the problem: I sit down to write something and within a minute, I have thought of about five totally different things and can't find words to put any of them down. My writing is about as broken as my English these days.

The garbage trucks DO need new brakes...especially if they are going to drive by our house three times in the morning before the kids wake up. Their passing is inevitably followed by "mommy! mommy! MOMMY!!!!!" which leaves me wondering "Hmm....would they have slept till seven had not the garbage man squeaked by?" Perhaps I'll write the city about it.

Oh yes...the garage sale. It was garage sale weekend and one of the hottest of the year! The sisters were here bright and early to help Josh set up as I rested in bed until 7:00am (getting rid of strep throat from the day before). They started rollin' in and kept comin' into the evening. There was NO time to price things, so I got to practice my bartering; I learned very quickly who to offer a high price to...it's a cultural thing. At one point, someone wanted to buy a mattress set. In a quick mistake, Janine (who is quite good at the Spanish language) told a lady it was "Cinco" (five) instead of "cincuenta" (fifty). What was even funnier is that the lady's response was "ehh...cuatro?"
So...overall, there were a lot of quarters and dimes... hagglers and generous ones...donations and thefts; and overall we came away with right over $1,000! Ethiopia here we come!
The only draw back to the sale was the loss of our brand new, stinkin' good deal video camera (500.00 camera for 125 on clearance). Oh well...we still have quite a profit after buying another one. So...thanks to Joy for all the stuff and the others who donated as well. I won't kill you now...I salute you!

I got glasses again. It's nice to see clearly although my prescription is stronger than my last pair and for some reason I keep tripping. Embarrassing. Don't know how that fits...I was just thinking of it.

So here we are with only five more days to get ready. People keep asking what they can do to help. The problem is, I don't even know. And I realized this morning that it's because I am attempting to hide anxiety behind a list of things to do. Honestly, all I have to do is clean, pack, make sure the house is taken care of and bills are paid, finish making arrangements for Ethiopia and throw Jake a small b-day party. Okay...so maybe there is quite a bit left to do...but I believe the stress is radiating mostly from the title of "mother." I cry at even the thought of leaving the boys for so long. I also cry at the though of taking Oliver with us (especially when I have a Dr. who seems to be going back on his enthusiasm to take him along). Let's just say it is a GOOD thing that tickets are non-transferable because, if they were, I think someone else would be sitting by Josh on the plane next week.

I found encouragement last night in the simple words "It'll all be okay" from Josh. And from Noah's blurry little photo that greets me when I sit down to the computer. I also found encouragement in The Balsbaugh and the Arthur blogs this morning, (I will post their quotes of the day at the end) and from my mother's words on the phone. Most of all, I find encouragement this morning in the peace that comes from trusting our Father.

This is a step of faith: more so than I first thought. Josh and I have talked since before we were married about moving to Africa someday; taking my child from our healthy America to a drought stricken African nation is a hurdle that needs to be overcome. It is mental, emotional, and STRESSFUL, but I have faith in the God who holds all of our days in His hands.

Of course, just when I think I have faith, it turns out that my disguised faith was only my own mental calculations of the safeguards outweighing the risks. Nursing, for example. Everyone says "Oh...as long as he is nursing, he will be just fine over there." So what happens? I go dry for a couple of days. This leaves me scrambling for bottles, formula, and more doubt. Overall, a realization that my trust in God was once again, more of a trust in myself. Good grief!

God is good. I do know that everything will be alright...even if everything is not alright. I am not banking on the fact that, in three weeks, this will all be over and we will be together as a family again. I trust in the fact that God's will is better than my own.

From the Arthur's Blog this morning...a favorite catechism
"What is your only comfort, in life and in death? That I belong - body and soul, in life and in death - not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ, who at the cost of his own blood has fully paid for all my sins and has completely freed me from the dominion of the devil; that he protects me so well that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; indeed that everything must fit his purpose for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him."

From the Balsbaugh's Blog this morning:
"I've noticed that the more we doubt the more we cling to a false lucidity in the hope of rationalizing what feelings have made murky." Camille in Jean-Luc Godard's Contempt