dog days

of summer, that is.

We are home from church camp, reading classes are complete, the flowers are looking a little bedraggled and leggy, Jeb put jeans on twice this week despite 85 degree days with massive humidity and I have an unexplainable longing for cardigans and corduroy.  Belgian mums are calling my name.

Cross country and football practices have started.  School meetings are underway and at church we are deep into recruiting teachers for Sunday School and spiffing classrooms for children.  The family binder is out and filling quickly with paperwork, schedules and such.  I even woke Cooper and Jeb up at 9:30am yesterday morning; time to prepare for the daybreak alarms.

I actually bought a pot roast to make this week.  Now that is going too far.

I had a dream last night that one of our adoption agencies called us and I was really happy.  I don't know what I was happy about in the dream, but I remembered it this morning as I looked at the calendar and wondered WHEN, oh when, we might hear news of our trip to China...

School starts in two weeks.  That is a good thing.  We are ready for the school year (at least I am girding myself for the homework and activities to begin again!), and we are MORE than ready to bring Emma Kate home.

Our agency is saying October now.  I am excited about the month of October.  I love October.  I'd go anytime they say we can go.  I just also really like September.  September is a good month, too.

If these are the dog days of summer, what is autumn called when I simultaneously want it to last forever because I love the season so, and also yearn for it to fly by so Emma Kate is in our arms?  Ambivalence has never felt like a nice word to me.  Feeling both things at once needs a different name; and not a soap opera name.  This isn't high drama, it is peace mixed with longing, and joy marked by wondering anticipation.

Waiting.  It has nuances of its own, that word.

We wait knowing there is a day.  And each day is a day closer.  Every single detail of our needs is well known and tended to by a God who orchestrates the length of the seasons and the very number of hairs on Emma Kate's head.  He knows.  And He is at vigilant work for her sake.  And ours.

Onward!