I think my last post was over two weeks ago. Am I still allowed to call myself a blogger?
Here's the thing: our house is under contract. Yes and Amen, said all of God's people. It went under contract last week. And now the chaos ensues. The buyers required a close date just 24 days from today. That means, in 24 days, I will be 38 weeks pregnant with potentially no place to live. We have a contract in on one of our favorite homes in Cville, but more than a few things have to check out before we call it a done deal, so I'm trying not to panic, trust that God knows what he's doing and not feed my family takeout every single night (maybe just every other?).
I told a friend this morning that I keep thinking of Mary on her way to Bethlehem, not knowing where on earth (literally) she would have that baby. She didn't have a doula or a Dr. Wolanski or regular blood pressure checks or prenatal vitamins. She just had faith that God was going to take care or her and that sweet baby. I think of Mary, and I know I'll be fine. Even if 90% of me really wants to hang up tiny dresses in a closet and set up a bassinet with pink blankets...and recreate all of my Pinterest boards. Lord, help me.
I would love to say that I'll blog again soon. But y'all. I'm at capacity. It may be a bit longer. I love my readers. I mean LOVE, even though I've never met some of you. Thanks for having grace for me while I walk through this season of crazy!