Woowee, I may call myself “GiantMelanie,” but lately I feel smaller and smaller.  I know that’s a good thing.  The more out of control I feel, the tinier I shrink.  As Alex reminded me the other night - after I groaned about all the unknowns facing us - this is such a fabulous opportunity for God to glorify Himself!  Yeppers.  Can’t wait to see what He does.  I’m shrinking so rapidly that I may in fact be invisible to the naked eye by the end of February.  I am small.  Alice in Wonderland down the rabbit hole and I had one too many nips of the “drink me” potion.

As I feel like I’m in battle lately, I’ve been praying thru the armor of God this week, and a couple of days ago, the “feet” part hit me in a way that it never has before.  I’ve always read the passage thinking, okay belt=truth, breastplate=righteousness, feet=peace, shield=faith, helmet=salvation, sword=word of God.  But you know how you can read something a thousand times and then all of a sudden, something lands differently?  I guess it’s that whole thing about God’s word being “living and active.”  So anyway, this week my big AHA was my TOMS-clad feet.  ”Feet fitted with the READINESS that comes from the gospel of peace.”  The good news of PEACE – peace in God’s plan, peace in Christ, PEACE – gives us READY feet.  I LOVE this.  I so want ready feet.  I want my feet to be ready to go where God takes me.  I love the idea that the good news of peace equips my feet with readiness.  I have peace, so I am ready.  I feel the most ready when I have peace in who God is, who He says I am, and what He wants me to do.  When I have a peace about those things, I am ready, and nothing can scare me out of it.  Which also explains why when I get all squishy and doubty and paralyzed by anxiety, I lose my readiness!

So then today, I was visiting Ephesians 6 again, and then I didn’t really know where I was headed and BAM, My thumb caught Luke 18.  Oh, the persistant widow, maybe my favorite story in the Bible.  I love that Jesus told a story about a totally annoying, nagging lady.  And a godless, unfeeling judge who gave her justice.  ”Yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!”  And then the kicker, because I don’t nag an unjust, unfeeling judge.  I nag my God, my Father, my Creator who loves me and hears me.  ”And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off?  I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly.” 

Feelin’ small.  Feelin’ tired and weak.  But this week, God showed me how to GET READY and encouraged me to KEEP CRYING OUT FOR JUSTICE!!!

Um, yeah, I’m all packed.  It was late, my defenses were down, and I just couldn’t stop myself.  All packed.  Nowhere near my two weeks out rule for packing.  I am a big, fat cheater.  Okay, ESD, I’m ready to meet you!  Alex walked in, saw me sitting on the floor with my clothes arranged in neat little rolls and a guilty look on my face, and he just burst out laughing. 

Last night I made a photo album for her.  Pictures of her new family.  I’ll leave it with her nanny to share with her once we pass court.  It was so much fun assembling favorite pics of all of us and labeling them “Mommy,” “Daddy,” “Brother Elliott,” etc.  And of course it’s now nestled in my suitcase.

This week I bought a puzzle – Geopuzzle’s Africa and the Middle East.  Elliott and I have had the best time working the puzzle every day, and now he can find Ethiopia.  Yesterday he said, “It’s on the Horn!  Dat’s where my sister libs.”  He can also find Uganda – “Dat’s where Bosco libs,” Madagascar – “Where the animals from the moobie lib,” Egypt – “Baby Moses from church!” and Israel – “Jesus!”   We have fun saying all the names of the countries and capitals, like “Mogodishu” and “Botswana” and “Namibia.” 

I made Saint’s Ethiopian Sidamo coffee in the french press yesterday and my thoughts zoomed forward to when we get to experience Ethiopian coffee in Ethiopia!  They probably just call it coffee over there.  

Focusing on the present is excruciating.  I have two of my three Africa trips booked, our court trip coming up and my Uganda trip in July.  There’s just this tiny thing of that middle trip, the one where we come home with our daughter.  And the crazy timing of it all.  I’m feeling a little Tom Pettyish about it.  “I’m FREE!  I’m FREE-FALLLLLINNN’!!!”  Praying that God will catch me and use my messy life, my limping faith, to glorify Himself. 

I feel like Elliott in the afternoon when he really should take a nap but won’t give it up and starts whining and crying and sobbing and collapses into my lap, tear-streaked face and boogery nose and pouty lips open in a silent scream.  And I wipe the tears, the nose, kiss his head, rock his tired little body until I get all the shudder out.  And everything’s okay again.

God, I need my nose wiped and my head kissed.  This is me giving up and collapsing in Your lap.

Hi, ESD.  I’m thinking your beautiful name but typing your initials and I’m so excited to share your name and face with the world someday soon.  Our flights and hotel are booked.  We’re ready to come meet you!!!  It’s going to be so hard not to overwhelm you.  I’ll want to sweep you up in my arms and kiss you and hug you…but I’ll restrain myself and try really hard to just read stories and blow bubbles and try to make you laugh.

I love packing.  I don’t know if you’ll absorb this quality from me or if you’ll rebel from the list-making and consolidating and playing Tetris with items in a suitcase.  I love it so much that I’ve had to make a rule for myself that I’m not allowed to start packing for a trip until two weeks out.  I’m not there yet…but our paper chain is getting shorter and it won’t be long now….

I’ve been blogging to you since before you were born.  In some ways it’s a little unreal that soon I won’t need to blog to you ever again, because I’ll be able to whisper in your ear and kiss the tip of your nose and sing and dance with you in the kitchen.  In some ways it’s unreal and in other ways it’s the most natural thing in the world, you in my life and me in yours.  Like we’ve had an umbilical cord stretching across two continents and an ocean.  That’s kind of beautiful…and kind of gross.  Ha, well, goodnight little one.