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Tuesday, January 28, 2014

I was sitting on the floor at 5 a.m. waiting and hoping for Sawz to fall back asleep. Every day I am at war with the fear that we are in the wrong place. That's when I noticed that the crib fits perfectly into this little slot in the wall. Sawyer sleeps in the laundry room, and if it weren't for that tiny little slot, cut out for what seems like no purpose at all, his crib would not fit. And then what? I hope it means we are meant to live here. Knowing just that would make my days less scary, in one way. But I'm wondering how I didn't notice that feature when we first moved in here and set up the crib. Makes me think there are a lot of obvious things that I just don't notice...things that are meant to reassure me.

The day I found out I was pregnant last year was also one of the hardest days Kaleb and I have experienced in our marriage. Being self-employed has been the trickiest little balancing act of our lifetimes. There have been a few big breaks, but mostly so far a great amount of disappointments and set backs parallel to endless hours of hard work in the daylight but also in the middle of the night. We do believe that someday, the pay off will be worth it. Until then, I absolutely need moments of reassurance. That one day last year, I was so stressed about money that I had to leave the house. I couldn't continue to be at home only ruminating the heaviness of our financial situation. I was in desperate need of something else. I knew we needed something else. I ended up in the bathroom stall at Wal-Mart looking at a positive pregnancy test. I stayed in the stall for a long time.

I may look around too desperately. My eyes can strain for visual peace so much that I am distracted from feeling it. I say it too much I'm afraid, I'm always telling Kaleb. "I just want to feel safe."

I don't know if I will ever feel safe. I can't put Sawyer to bed without a mini panic attack and several "check-on -hims." I now have two boys to worry over. One who skids the dark desert highways in the middle of the night, and the other who sleeps so quiet and deep it can be alarming.

I recognize my need for greater faith. Right now, I feel like I am gripping the good times with one tired, sweaty finger. I am overwhelmed that at any moment, so easily, my world could take a tumble. I wish it wasn't this way. I know it doesn't have to be. I need to remember, that Sawyer's crib fits like a puzzle. And our business is still alive. And that one time, in the Wal Mart bathroom stall when I knew we needed something else and we received it.

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