Change

This past week has been all about change for me. Nothing huge to anyone else, but to me? All change is huge. A long time ago when I was part of some major changes at a place I worked, we all had to read a book and that book said, "Many times, change is perceived as loss."

For me, that's true. I have made some good and necessary changes, but I still see loss in them. Bittersweet.

I've sorted, organized, and given away piles of toys. For someone like me who waited 9 years to be able to hold my first living child, giving away toys is actually pretty hard. I waited so long and the time is going so quickly. While I don't intend to be on a show about hoarders and am taking appropriate steps to avoid being nominated, I cried. I did. Bittersweet.

I've sorted and organized school books. And, yes, I've had the annual "clutter panic" about the books that homeschool brings into what used to be a perfectly normal dwelling.

I've sorted and organized in the kitchen on a small scale to try to make more space on my rather limited countertop.

It is also time to tackle re-painting the boys' room. The walls are scuffed and dingy. The paint color and curtains are for little boys and I don't have those anymore. I want to send the message to my boys that I see how they are growing, that I pray for God's work to grow them into men passionately devoted to him, and that I'm ecstatic at the privilege of being along for this entire journey, not just the little boy part of it. Bittersweet.

I also came up with the idea to change around our school area and better utilitize an odd little crooked room in our basement known as the "playroom". I cannot claim that I actually did this on my own, as Brian and his muscles have been a major part of it.

Last week, I realized that our basement was not going to be re-carpeted or re-modeled anytime soon. In fact, it probably never will. I cannot continue to wait, as if someday I will not have a rabbit warren for a basement. Don't get me wrong. It's not all bad, by any means. I am so grateful to have a basement with plenty of windows and great space for school and living. We are in the basement a lot. We love it. We have great space for kids to play and for guests to sleep. We just have some really odd little spaces that are difficult to use. There is a large alcove where we have done school for 6 years. There is also the aforementioned "playroom" which hogs two windows of light. (The reason "playroom" appears in quotations is because no one really plays in there very often.)

It was time to introduce natural light to our school area, so we have moved most of school life into the "playroom" alongside the toys. Toys are streamlined, desks are set up, and the boys have played in their new room for two straight days.

In it all, I have not managed to eliminate the air hockey/foosball table given to us a few years ago. Elijah is desperately attached. Today I had to remind myself that he is only 6 years old. The rest of us are ready to move on, but he is just a kid and I'm not going to pry it out of his hands....yet. For now, it has moved to the alcove along with overflow school books and the printer.

Honestly, the new room, currently being referred to as the boys' "other" room looks good. It looks really good. But I still had this weird pang about giving up a space I was quite fond of. The boys and I have spent so much time together in that space.

With Joseph turning 12 this week, I think I am feeling the weight of change for him and for me. 12 seems big to me. This is the child I carried, after all hope of ever having a biological child had faded. 12 years of this miraculous time have passed already. Bittersweet.

I am so glad on this day that I have been called and redeemed by a God who does not change like the shifting shadows. In all the changes, big and small, I picture my hand just slipped into his and me looking up at him for reassurance and comfort. No bitter there. Just sweet.