The Mr. and I talking yesterday about a house for sale on one of the lakes we wouldn't mind living on for life:
me: "We should buy it."
him: "Yea, we should. I mean, we can't afford the down payment. Or the monthly mortgage payment. But that's it."
me: "We should do it anyway. We could make it work."
him: "Yea. And it'd be awesome."
me: "Yea doggy! Can we get a puppy first? Ooo, or a truck? We'd need the truck to get our boat into the lake ..."
We've been daydreaming lately in our good moments.
But, we've been angry and crying in our bad ones. Avoidant and numbed in our worst.
We've never felt this trapped before. This helpless. This hopeless.
The "next best thing" seems really, really far away ... and maybe not even ours for the making or the taking.
We're exhausted. Mad at ourselves for the lives we've made. We love each other. We love God. But, damn, the rest is pissing us off. Disappointing us. Confusing the heaven out of us.
Part of us knows this is a season — one of growing and stretching and transformation and acceptance — but the other part of us is threatened by the headaches and tears in our eyes and dark clouds surrounding.
But, it is what it is. All we have is now. Today, in all it's crap and occasional care, is pregnant with the promises and power of tomorrow.
Maybe we're just having a crappy first trimester?*
One can hope. Maybe. At least in our good moments ...
*I am NOT pregnant. It's a metaphor people.