[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #9b9b9b;”] C [/dropcap]an I just start this by saying that God is good? 🙂 I’m just reminded of that more and more and needed to get it out of the way.

The May/June time of year is always interesting to me, because things seem to pop at this time. It happens in September as well. Not sure if it’s due to the seasons changing or that God likes these two times of the year or what the reason, but things change. And I have no idea what is going to change this year, but I can feel it coming. I also know that if nothing in our circumstances change, then at least God is changing me. And that is no little matter.

Six years ago, at the end of May/early June, I was a stylish, skinny, single working girl living in Southern California. I had just met this interesting British fellow, who was named Christopher yet was called Mark, and we were frequently speaking over the phone and texting. Life was very fun and exciting at that point, and little did I know how much fun and excitement was to come. Nor did I realize how much growing and stretching would be required of me. And I’ll leave all of that out as my blog is full of it. Fast forward to present day, and I’m now a slightly frumpish, skinny with a belly, married, part-time working mom of two living in good old Longmont. Not so exciting. More like simply exhausting. My patience is worked on a minute by minute basis, I multi-task far more than what is really healthy, I eat to stay alive, not to be health-conscious, and I’ve been quite the emotional roller coaster ride. Yet God’s growing me.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that this life that I currently have is not what I had dreamed of, but it is what I have. And it’s not bad!! In fact, there are lots of good things, specifically the three men that I live with. The location is far less than ideal, the house is not what I feel is my home, and the circumstances are far less than desired, yet we’re making progress. And that’s okay.

I had recently hoped to volunteer at a pregnancy center in town, and yet I’m finding that until our work schedules change, that won’t be possible. And it’s been disappointing. I really felt like it was so down my avenue, such a necessary thing for me to do, yet I can’t figure out how to make it work. So I’m letting go of it. And I’m okay with it.

We had hoped and prayed that we could quit these cleaning jobs after 4 long years of doing them, and yet we still don’t see the end in sight. It’s a weekly battle for me as I loathe them. Yet it’s a weekly battle to suck it up and choose a good attitude. I’ve also quit the complaining as it doesn’t improve the situation.

I had hoped that we wouldn’t be living in our current house for as long as we have been. 950 square feet is far too claustrophobic, but it seems that we’ll be here for a while. And this has been a very hard struggle for me. I highly dislike Longmont. I dream of Paris . . . always. Yet we’re here. So after moaning and moaning, it occurred to me that it would be far smarter to make the best of this situation and to take on the job of making our house into a home. Rocket science, right? Duh. It also dawned on me that every day I can purge one area of the house. I started by throwing away a bag full of old, dirty flip-flops that I held onto for some silly reason, and it felt like a huge achievement! Mark and I are now sharing a closet, so it’s been a several day process of cleaning out clothes, shoes, belts, junk, etc. And it’s good!

I’m just ever-mindful of God’s goodness in that He patiently teaches us and changes us. When Mark and I first married and moved to England, I was so impatient, such a planner, such an organizer that I was too uptight. I found too many disappointments due to setting myself up for too much. And now, I’m becoming a patient, flexible, adaptable, go with the flow, not very organized but happier mom who just says okay, well, let’s not cry over spilled milk but find something to replace it with. That’s good. This is a good change for me. And it’s all because of Him . . . and all because of three men who patiently and lovingly stay with me as I grow.

So if we don’t move to Paris this year . . . we’ll at least be living in a happier home with a happier mom. And as I keep saying, that’s okay!! 🙂

P.S. I don’t have any pictures of our house that I care to share, but I do have a cute photo of the hubby and me in Paris (during September . . . told you it’s a good month!!)

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