Faithful

The first day

and the last day.

 

With the final walk through behind us, the moving truck and car loaded, the house clean and empty, and all the doors locked for the last time, we took a final stroll through the yard.  As we walked, I snapped three pictures:

a bleeding heart bush in the corner of the front of the house, with it's first, delicate bloom;

the irises in back of the house, glorious and beautiful;

and the swingset.

At the time, I was simply capturing a few final moments, a spot of beauty on a difficult day.  In retrospect, I see God. A God who causes the delicate and beautiful to bloom after a rainstorm, a God who answers the prayers of a mama and her young children, a God who was just as faithful the first morning we stood on that porch, hopeful, happy, moving boxes into the home, as He was the final morning as we locked the door, stopped to take in the beauty of His creation, and drove away, sad and uncertain.  Now, looking back, through pictures, I see Him.  Tender.  Compassionate.  Faithful.  Unfailing.

And I'm awed and grateful.

Great is Thy faithfulness,” O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

“Great is Thy faithfulness!” “Great is Thy faithfulness!“ 

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided— 

“Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Conquered

She did it!

 

On our last morning in Bismarck,

Theia conquered biking

on two wheels.

 

She rode and rode,

and when she was done

Joe took it for a spin.

Bittersweet

It's hard to say goodbye.  Our last days in Bismarck were sad, but they were laced with goodness, too.  

It was sad to say goodbye to our swingset, but good to remember how God answered our prayers and how we got to enjoy it for eleven months.  I'm grateful for those final days playing with neighbors in the yard, when school was done and summer was just beginning.  It occupied them, built memories and gave me time to pack, pack, pack.

Our last Sunday at church, Theia graduated into Kidzone and our older two girls got to experience children's church together for the first time and the last time.  They had some sad goodbyes, but a happy discovery when they realized their shoes matched Sophias,

Theia, Xandra, Sophia

We were glad to see Siri, she was much loved in our time in Bismarck and we were sad to say goodbye.

Xandra, Theia, Siri

While moving and packing and watching our house go from full to empty is sad, those moving boxes brought unexpected joy to our home.

The neighbor girls would come those last weeks and say, "Lets go play downstairs in the boxes."  Those big boxes were homes and pet shops and rooms and ice cream parlors and any number of other fun, imaginative things a group of kids can dream up while playing together.  Everyone was sad whenever I had to "steal" one to use it to pack. 

The last day is always difficult, but so good when a friend shows up with three kids to play, help and say goodbye.

Joey, Xandra, Miracle, Theia, Aliyah, Matthais, Malachi

 I'm grateful that in the sad, stressful moments, when we're silly enough to line up seven small children for a picture, that this guy peeks out from windows

and pillars and makes us laugh, so we don't cry.

Though we landed in Bismarck a short while, God gave me a friend.  I needed her.  Many times.  I needed her that last day, too.  I'm glad she came, that she said hello in the library the first day when she heard my voice, that she pursued a friendship she knew was bound to have a goodbye.  Although my kids were sad, they were glad, too.

I'm grateful for one last evening to enjoy popsicles on the porch

 

with Addison and Daysha,

to celebrate the sweetness of neighborhood friends amidst the sadness of saying goodbye.

As I pulled away from Bismarck on my final afternoon, I texted my friend, Elizabeth and said, "Goodbye Bismarck."  She replied, "Bittersweet.  Bitter for me and sweet for you."  I agree.  Not necessarily about the sweetness of leaving Bismarck, but about how endings are bittersweet.  It's just another glimpse of His grace that He would give us goodness amidst the bitterness of life. 

His mercies are new every morning.

Open Door

Joe and I like to think of ourselves as hospitable.  The kind of people who have an open door policy.  Come right in, make yourself at home, no one is a guest.   My kids have an open door policy too, which, as it turns out, is also rather inviting.

One Sunny afternoon during our last week in Bismarck while I was lounging (this is what I do during a move, lounge) on the only piece of furniture left in the house that one could sit on, I heard a dog barking.  This is not an uncommon daytime noise in a neighborhood filled with families that own dogs.  It is, however, uncommon for that sound to be so near that it appears to have come from within the house.  The nearness of the noise drove me to investigate.  I hoisted myself from the bed (no small task at 8 months pregnant) to investigate and called to Xandra who was reading in her room.  She met me in the kitchen/dining area where we observed a little white dog trotting about the empty space.  As all normal people would do, I scrambled for my camera, while laughing wildly.  How did a dog get into our house? I neglected to get a picture of him before he scooted out the wide open garage door (now I see).  While I missed him in the house, I did catch a picture of him in the yard,

 

pooping,

before he trotted off down the street toward home.

Or toward another house where the children leave the doors (all of them:  garage, front and back, all at once) standing wide open when they go outside to play.