July.

Hot sticky season of freedom. I love you. When I opened the windows this morning, you breezed in like an old friend. I have felt this happy to see you before. The year we melted with relief when the right job at the right time came through for Pete. That July brought us home to our beginning. Back to the place where we met as students and I learned about Cajun fries and fireworks.  Two years ago, July brought us into a season of independence, able to provide for our family again.

Beautiful month of sunshine. You have walked us into summer. Again.

Today it was my turn.

My turn to feel heart fly and tilt face toward the sun. My turn to ease out of a long commute, turn in my high heels, and set up shop in the kids’ playroom. My turn to learn how with God, nothing is wasted. No time apart from my boys, no long hours in the car, no challenges at the office. Nothing is for nothing. Because His design is always more intricate and more perfect than mine. And He uses even the scraps I would have thrown out with the trash.

My fear, my failures, my career that has ambled across three continents pursuing international human rights development work. And my calling – to love on the women who hold up half the sky ~ the mothers, the sisters, the daughters. The heart of the heart of a home. Who sometimes walk the road of quiet desperation that I know oh too well.

I have been feeling my way towards this change all last month; all last year. But, really I have been on a journey for as long as I can remember. And the fine thread of God’s will we’ve been following has felt so fragile in our desperate hands. So when I it led me to this morning, and I opened the window and felt July smile in through the blinds, I knew I was home.

And I promise to share details next week. But for now, for now I’m just reveling in the sunshine.

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