we are here. we are where i thought we would not get. it is where i had no pictures in my mind because we weren't getting here. but we are. last week before Amy and Aaron left they said, "well, you are still in the desert, BUT it's a new place in the desert". me = hmpf. and its not the end of the world. Ahhhh.

Actually the sun came out today and the warmth has hugged me all day long. i try not to be greedy in my desire for her and when she is out, we do not waste an hour without one another. I thought this day would be dark and you have reminded me, again, how powerful light is, how much the shadows tell us.

He woke up early and cracked the curtains as he began to pray. Today he decided he would go down the rows of desks and computers and pray for all the names he could remember behind those desks. with his bowtie donned, it would be his last day to walk by them, to wave and half smile, to have awkward conversations and share sugar treats in the break room. PH wasn't going to walk out of there hopeless, as I had pictured (so sorry my love), no he was walking out of there head bowed in a different way. Not down because of defeat, down because the next place he is going (which I was hoping he could scream in their faces) no, the next place he is going is back on his knees, to ask again, "where do you have us God?" and I beg with him in my quiet time that follows, "direct our steps". Oh Lord please shine the light a little brighter on this ever darkening trail, in fact, heck, grab some theater lights or torch sticks if you will, we'd be thrilled to see more than the step RIGHT in front of us.

And you tell us, its gonna be good, keep walking. Good feels far, really far. Can we pull that closer? and you say, all things beautiful in time Ashley, the gain is knowing me (Christ), all the rest is rubbish. I'm thinking a job doesn't sound so rubbishlike, but okay, yes, I can keep walking. He can keep walking, and somehow we will carry our girl along. You see her too, you love her too. im desperate for that because i keep failing her.

So, this less grand and still unpaved road continues and i realize today that we are okay. Even better than okay. I realized on this unpicturable day that you colored everything in just right and its not all black. music is in my ears, the sun on my back, and most beautifully your people have stepped in in so many ways and offered us rich words of encouragement and while head-scratching alongside us, they too, dig deep and STILL at the end, come up with hope, for us and with us. So tomorrow when a new chapter that i never wanted begins, we'll dig in again, and one thing i feel confident of is that your light will be there.

Because of that, I give up my paint and markers and all the sketches i had so nicely done, and i grieve but i move forward on the drawings from the last 5 months that have so many red lines through them and new arrows, i move forward, not with a bitter taste on my tongue or control at my hand, but i, we, move on, determinedly hopeful that we'll see the next path and that in between we won't be overwhelmed or riddled with anxiety, but steadfast in prayer and joy for what we do have - for the goodness of each other, health, food, roof, clothes, everything you give us for the day. when he walks back through the doors this evening, i'll lift my head to meet his and wont be drowning in defeat, but we'll celebrate for today, for the last year, a race well run, a job well done. Its seems mildly idiotic to feel proud or celebrate as this door closes, but that's exactly what we'll do, and then tomorrow, we'll start over again.