Good Intentions

I meant to share a poem each and every day this past month. I really did plan to. Along the way I discovered something about myself. I'm a little odd. I don't like the way poetry looks on the computer screen. There is just something screamingly wrong with it inside of me. It seems that for me the only acceptable form of poetry is verbal or on actual paper.

So, sorry.

Now, it's May. National Poetry Month has given way to National Foster Care Month. Brace yourselves. It's not as if I don't write about it often enough anyhow, but now I have an excuse of sorts.

Yesterday was crafting chaos around here. They broke out the water colors and markers. Let me just say there were a lot of towels used for the spills and lots of washing up to be done after. The Little Miss enjoyed ever second of it, but also came out of the episode looking like a living Picaso. I'm sure you can imagine it.

My mind has been clouded these past few days. Some of it was the blinding head ache I had. Oh, how I love spring.

Some of it is just that sense of being in deep communication with the Lord and waiting on Him to sort some things out for me. There are things in my present that make me ache and long for relief and comfort, and yet it seems as though I must continue to endure and wait. I hear the Lord and yet it is unclear. It is a gentle comfort, but not an answer to my pleas. In a way I am content. I know that His plan is the right one. I know that His design is something I rarely get even a glimpse of. I know that he is hearing me. It is hard to wait in expectation. It is hard to wait, hard to long for something and hope that my "want" is in fact something more than my own, created alone by my selfishness.

I love what God has done in my life and my families life since moving us here, far away from our home church and what we clung to fiercely as our life line. I love being used so fully by the Lord. At the same time though, I feel as though I've been dropped off out in the desert. I long deeply for some of the things I no longer have surrounding me.

I know, I know, clear as mud. Perhaps this foggy clarity is a life theme.