Like stepping into a dream...

The start to last week didn't go as planned. Should I ever expect that it will?

In my plans there were a thousand things to do and prepare for. I was going to start organizing, categorizing and paring down our belongings, and filling boxes with items that wouldn't be needed till we move. I wanted to get that head start in addition to preparing for the fast approaching start of the school year.

Not only that, but my sweet husband secretly planned a little get away for our anniversary on Monday. I was thrilled that in the midst of all the things he has going on, we were going to spend time alone. He had lined up care for our children, and we were going to take off and celebrate our 13 years of marriage.

But sitting in church the day before, my head began to swirl and my body to ache, and that afternoon I could do nothing but lay in bed. For a while I was hopeful that I was just over exhausted, but by the end of the afternoon I had all the symptoms of the stomach flu.

So our anniversary plans were cancelled. Monday was spent in bed, with only occasional trips into the house to check on the kids until dizziness and exhaustion sent me promptly back to laying down. They played together, made themselves bread and peanut butter for lunch, and collaborated on the making of anniversary/ get well wishes.

Other "glitches" interrupted my plans throughout the week, such as the drier going out unexpectedly and without warning, but I have learned to believe that my plans really never matter. I can plan all I want but ultimately God has lovingly determined every circumstance and detail of all my moments. And so I can rest knowing that it is for my good.

So all my planning and organizing is going to wait because -- as wildly misplaced as it seems -- we have escaped to a little paradise. We never would have planned it this way knowing what lays ahead in the coming weeks, but a little vacation was booked by Jon's mom over a year ago. So yesterday I stepped into this dreamy place and all the chatter in my head gradually begins to quiet. Days measured by clocks and lists become a distant memory for just a little while.

We are in the land of white picket fences lined with blooming hydrangeas. The air is warm and gentle ocean breezes stroke our bare skin and sends ruffles through the seagrass. If a postcard could choose it's picture, it would be from here.

Within a few hours of our arrival yesterday, children had reacquainted with cousins, wet shoes lay on the door steps and towels were hung on bedposts to dry. The yard was claimed as ours, refrigerators filled, and suitcases emptied.

It's all so dreamy, like I'm living a life undeserved. Yes, it is a life undeserved and I am deeply grateful.

I didn't take pictures yesterday, and today it rained. The boys played outside anyway, and even made it down to the beach. This evening, the rain let up and the forecast promises sunny days ahead. I couldn't wait for pictures, so I cranked up the ISO and snapped a few as I walked around before getting the kids ready for bed.

(Girly didn't want to play out in the rain with the boys...)

I brought some reading material that I may or may not get to this week, but this quote stuck out to me last week and I have been spurred on still more to pray earnestly for the souls of my dear children.

"The Lord is far more willing to hear than we are to pray; far more willing to give blessings than we to ask them; --but He loves to be entreated for them... I suspect the child of many prayers is seldom cast away."  J. C. Ryle


~Katherine