"Update" . . . yawn . . .

I've been holding off on blogging for a while in hopes that our new family pictures would be ready for the posting. They aren't. They haven't even been taken yet. We keep planning to take family pictures and then some appointment, commitment or unexpected "thing" cuts in line. I am hoping in the next week we will get those pictures taken. I am bothered by the huge portrait that hangs over my couch and contains neither Ezekiel nor Francis. That picture is not my family . . . it's only part of my family. I am even more aware that the five close up pictures that line our stairwell are an incomplete set. It seems tolerable to have a picture missing two children but when just one is missing from a grouping, it seems almost "mean". . . I know I'm waaaay over analyzing this photo thing but, hey, that's the way my mind works these days.
There isn't much news to report that would be of interest to those outside this family but things are changing around here. My husband sold his Harley yesterday. My oldest son sold his leopard gecko and I registered Francis and Elliana for an upcoming driver's education class! In a few months THREE of my children -exactly half- will be driving on either a permit or a license! I am going to be spending more time in prayer than ever when that happens.
We have been homeschooling for exactly two days now and it feels good to have a routine again. Everyone feels purposeful and it is obvious. The lazy feel of our home has given way to a structured, forward motion. Chores are done early, students are at the table with books, computers and pencils. I am circulating the room, Ezekiel on my hip, answering questions and checking assignments. I am going to miss this someday. I am keenly aware that, no matter how many times we adopt, at some point this phase of life will end. I will not have a bustling house full of kids to teach, train and enjoy. I suppose I should be looking forward to that time and planning a Disney trip - or something- with my husband (and Ezekiel - ha ha) but I can not even fathom it yet. I don't want this to end. I LOVE my life. I love my tiny house with too few bathrooms and mismatched interior doors. I love the fact that we fill the 8 passenger van when we go out as a family and there's no more room. I love the rulers, pencils, dried markers and broken crayons that litter my counter top on weekdays and I love how the washer and dryer are always in use, whether by me or one of my teens. I love the way the trash has to be dumped twice a day sometimes and the fact that my top dresser drawer is full on unmatched socks of all sizes and colors, waiting for me to have time to sit and find pairs. I love being called "mom" by voices in all stages of puberty - pre, mid and post - and knowing who's voice it is without ever having to look. THIS is what I was created for. To mother, educate, raise, reach out to, accept and cherish these people - to blur the line between "biological" and "adopted" in such a way that nobody wishes he was one and not the other. I pray for strength to live this life with excellence, knowing that the Lord has given me a calling too high to attain on my own. I just can't do it apart from Jesus. And isn't that just the way it should be? Anything we can tackle easily on our own strength is likely NOT our calling.

"God calls the unqualified to do the unimaginable through His power, that is immeasurable, in a world that is unreachable apart from Him who is unchangeable".
Author Unknown