Waiting to dream again

The wind is rustling the leaves outside with an occasional peeper chirping away and inside the only sounds are that of the ceiling fan as it whirls above my head and the birds singing Jesse to sleep. Dan is at work. The house is still, the perfect time to write.

These last few weeks have been a blur...  a lot of emotions, and wondering and sleeping and being too awake for midnight (jet lag is real) too much packing, and too many goodbyes, and not enough time.

We signed up for our DTS with high hopes and a lot of dreams.  Over the summer we learned, cried and got a little beat up (not by anyone :) ) Then we were excited to go to the unknown, to go to Mongolia. So few people have visited, the church is only 21 years old. It was exciting.  Then miscommunication met flustered expectations which turned into disappointment and confusion.  Which all turned into an early goodbye, and putting a slew of dreams in a heap to be sorted latter.

Now each day holds quiet questions as we eat, work, write, and be a family. Even the idea of dreaming is painful, yet I long for it. There are things inside that want to become realities but they have to wait, wait for the questions to be silenced and the unhindered laughter to return.

Ever morning we wake up is fresher, every night of sleep is more restful, the tears have slowed their flow, and sometimes laughter catches us off guard.

Tomorrow we'll play in the blow up pool, and eat way too much lemon bread, and when the sun is setting we'll go on an evening stroll to find fall colors and it will be a good day.